HDN: Just Another Love Story
by Symantra
Summary: Gamicademi Film Club's (mostly) positive reception for their first two movies led to the development of yet another sequel. Behind the scenes of a film about two rebels caught in a factional crossfire, a certain actor struggles with her feelings. A certain friend is there for her. And a certain writer isn't sure how the rest of this love story is going to play out.
1. The Musings of a Scriptwriter

Gamicademi Island at night was often an adventure for the rebellious who, with their love interests, crept out to visit the city or sit atop the escarpment near the water's edge. After sundown, the beach was the most ideal place on the island to enjoy the island's natural phenomena. The sandy seafront harbored all sorts of fantasies for the daring, lovers and nature lovers alike. Unfortunately, the best spots were on the end of the island opposite the academy; to get there, one had to cross the inlet that separated the western half of the island from the eastern, then navigate through the high-tech city. It was a forbidden, rebellious journey that made hearts race in more ways than one.

In Misty Woods, the forest behind the academy, boxbirds and other avians sang their nocturnes, and dolphins and whales grown to enormous proportions could sometimes be sighted in the distance by students watching from the grass-covered cliffs. To see them silhouetted against the moonlit skyline was a romantic dream, and many waited to confess their truest feelings in the wake of one leaping out of the ocean surface.

Blanc, overlooking the academy field from her window on the second story of the Gamicademi building, had been witness to more than one midnight love story. If she cared enough to remember every person that stole away after dusk, she would be able to extort a mountain of favors from a large chunk of the student population.

Breaking curfew was not a serious offense per se, but academy students were only allowed to leave the grounds on weekends. It was common knowledge that the Ice Queen VP took it upon herself to interrogate the audacious. And if that was not enough to deter rule breakers, there was a certain senior student who was more than happy to take disciplinary measures into her own hands.

The CPU on homestay rolled her shoulders, entwined her fingers, reached behind her head, and arched her back in a full upper body stretch. As her tightened muscles came loose, she closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. Her night's work, scrawled on several different sheets of paper, lay scattered all over her desk. There lay her most recent manuscript, the first act now finished.

"A good, productive night," she said with a glance at the clock; it was some hour past midnight. The words sounded final, some well-deserved praise after a full eight hours of uninterrupted work. Pleased with herself, Blanc glanced out the window with upturned lips. _Scripts don't write themselves, but to the rest of the club they might as well._

After the success of the club's first and second films, "Megatagmension Blanc + Neptune VS Zombies 1 & 2", the dire status of the academy had been lifted. With the defeat of HachimaJin, the begrudged embodiment of Dark History, the island's undead dilemma had been cured. All the zombified students had been restored to their regular human bodies, and within a week the zombie population had fallen to zero—and the student population risen by nearly thirty percent.

Of course, the Film Club never received worldwide acclaim or scouting from big-name companies like Studio Rhibli or Katokawa Pictures. However, Blanc had been asked to give an interview for an article all about up-and-coming writers—and not just by the two rival newspaper clubs of her school, no no. A legitimate, published journalist had come to Gamicademi to request her opinion.

Thinking back on everything that had happened, Blanc made a sound that she never would have let another soul hear.

This fame was all thanks to Neptune pressuring her into joining the Film Club. She chuckled as she recalled the memory. To think she had initially turned down the offer—and for the sake of reading all the books in the library, for crying out loud! She had been such a narrowminded antisocial back then, nearly missing her chance at global recognition in favor of reading a bunch of books. If not for Neptune's pushiness, she wouldn't be sitting here gloating over her newfound success.

A part of her loathed to admit it, but she had come to embrace the girl's unrelenting, self-centered attitude. But Blanc didn't hate her for it. Although the purple-haired idiot complained at every occasion about not having enough screentime—which was more than untrue—she seemed more than happy to share the spotlight with someone else. That someone else just so happened to be Blanc.

Truth be told, Blanc had been fully aware of the implications when writing the romance between her own character and Neptune's. At first, it had only been to check a box for having a relationship in the movie—shipping the hero and heroine was only a natural choice. However, Neptune hadn't seemed at all perturbed by the development. Behind the scenes, she had predictably joined the others in taking jabs at Blanc's reportedly bad writing. That was typical, but not once did she express any misgivings about having to act lovey-dovey with Blanc.

Then again, Blanc did sort of kill off any potential love rivals storywise. She recapped all of the confirmed deaths to make sure: Nepgear had been crushed by a satellite, and Uni—or was it Tamsoft?—had fallen into a fissure filled with lava. Dengekiko and Famitsu, along with Vert and Peashy near the end, had turned into zombies. As for the rest, well... There were simply too many deaths to recount them all. On top of that, the casting had never been set in stone. Anyone who died in the story still came back to fight in the next scene, so it was difficult to tell who was actually out of the running. Neptune and Blanc had been the only ones to play the same role throughout the whole film.

The casting had been one of the many flaws stemming from limited resources. Most of the kind reviews the first two movies received kept in consideration the low budget, in which case they praised the Film Club's handiwork rather than their lack of professionalism.

However, the single, most utmost enjoyed aspect of the film was neither the story nor the production. The kiss in the final scene of the sequel was mentioned in every review and got comments like "The single moment that made the whole last two films worth watching!" and "Easily tops the near-kiss tease in the last movie!"

She could imagine why.

Blanc blinked and looked back at the mess of papers covering her multi-shelved rosewood writing desk, an import from a sleek urban brand. The student rooms only came equipped with standard oak desks, but being a CPU had its advantages. Before transferring to Gamindustri, she had been able to wring out a few favors.

She began to organize her work so it would be ready for tomorrow's shoot. She had already started on her next project: yet another continuation of the series. After the events of the second installment, in which the hero and heroine foiled the plans of several evil factions and confessed their love for each other, they escaped to the mainland in a small wooden boat. The two would have to start a new life as fugitives, on the run from the Association.

While penning the initial scene, Blanc had decided to take it up a notch, to make it clear that this movie would be nothing like the last two. After the explosive events of the first and second movies, a break from the action was necessary before they could jump back into the chaos of things. Blanc wanted to show that some time had passed and that the protagonists' relationship had grown in that time. The hero and heroine, simultaneously fugitives and lovers, would spend the rest of their lives on the run. But she was not so cruel as to leave them without a chance to relax. Washed up on the outskirts of a concrete jungle, they would have no option but to rest for the night in an abandoned hotel room. There, in the dying light of day, they would consummate their love for the very first time.

 _A sex scene is a must in every fugitive movie,_ Blanc told herself. _It's the perfect timing. If not now, then when?_

She finished moving papers around and got up from her seat. The writer in her wanted to pick up a pen to describe, in vivid detail, the kinds of things her two characters would do in that hotel room, but she refrained. _It'll happen naturally,_ she told herself. _It's improv._

Blanc walked over to the window. Two figures, one male and one female but their faces too far away to make out, ran along the edge of the field hand in hand. Dancing along the clifftops, they stopped to catch each other in a hug. They spun in place, no doubt laughing and revelling as if the night air belonged to them and only them. Then they lost balance and collapsed onto the grass, but the two quickly sat up and put their arms around each other.

It was such the picture of a cliché romance that Blanc felt as if she had to roll her eyes. She had lingered at the window for too long now. Those two frolicking in the field was nothing that she hadn't seen before. The moon was no longer directly overhead; midnight was already past, and in a few hours the sun would start to rise.

 _Better get to sleep before I get poetic again._ The self-professed scriptwriter could still remember the humiliation of having her poems read aloud. They had sounded a lot better on paper, not read by some hulking idiot with LOLs for brains.

Turning away from the window and banishing the couple on the cliff from her mind, Blanc checked her desk one last time. Tomorrow's script was in order, the skeleton of the plot was pinned to her wall, and her favorite pen was capped and put in her penholder. Her work was done for the night.

She stripped off her blazer and climbed into bed. Tomorrow, the first scenario would be recorded after the final bell. At last, her third debut as a movie director, screenwriter, and leading role!

While waiting for sleep to come, Blanc saw the cliff again in her mind—only the grass was replaced by fine grains of beach sand, and the cliff by sparkling ocean water. The sand shifted underfoot as she ran, chased.

Neptune turned around, arms wide, smiling as she caught her and spun her around in a circle, sending the both of them falling to the ground...


	2. Ex-Director

All was quiet in the port city of East Palm Beach. Dusk colored the horizon orange and shrouded in darkness the peaks of downtown skyscrapers. In the shadow of urban civilization, the city's inhabitants eked out frugal lives hidden from the watchful eye of the government. The locals did little to challenge the iniquity that had taken root amongst society's well heeled, so the dogs of the police force did little to keep tabs on what went down inside rundown apartment buildings or low-income bars operated by the BTC.

This was the lawless zone. The perfect place for two fugitives, both targets of a number of shady organizations, to slip under the radar. After beaching their boat on a rubble-littered shore, the two ducked through a broken window and found refuge inside an abandoned hotel. They would not have much food for the night, but at least they had a place to sleep.

And here, they would take the first step forward in their relationship forged by circumstance.

Blanc settled awkwardly against the sheets. Her back to the mattress and her arms over her head, her position was compromising, leaving her so vulnerable that her first instinct was to struggle and escape. But she forced herself to reason, taking deep breaths and closing her eyes. Reminding herself that she wasn't in any real danger. Trying not to think about the girl pinning her down.

Neptune hovered only inches above her head. Her bangs hung down like lavender tassels, brushing against Blanc's face. Her hands closed easily around the writer's thin wrists. One knee in between Blanc's legs. She leaned in ever so near, shortening the precious distance between them. _Vanilla,_ Blanc thought as she got a scent of her partner's shampoo.

"Why're you so nervous?" the girl on top asked, a devious smile moving across her lips. Then she whispered, aside, "Isn't this what you wanted in the first place, Blanny?"

"N-no! I mean, in a way it is, but..."

"But... what?" Neptune moved closer again. Her purple eyes blinked then narrowed into slits, the seductive kind of which Blanc had never been subject to before. Her words were slow and sultry and syrupy.

"If you don't want to tell me, then I'll just ask... politely."

Abruptly closing the gap, Neptune touched her lips to Blanc's own. Like lightning, the tingling sensation lasted a split second. Startling, sudden, electrifying. The brunette gasped and felt a lapse of control over her body, as if on Neptune's lips was a body-seizing drug. Hesitation gripped her for a second. Was it really okay to do this?

But what worried her even more than the consequences of what they were about to do was the desire coursing through her for more of that intoxicating taste.

Neptune ducked her head again, only this time—

"Ah!"

Blanc couldn't hold back a cry of surprise when her lover started to suck the area between her shoulder and neck. "Neptune, what are you doing?! St... stop—" Taken off guard, she panicked and attempted in vain to push her partner off. Yet Neptune would not budge, determined to make Blanc hers.

Trembling and squirming, Blanc grit her teeth and shut her eyes tight. A sweet sound was building up in her throat and it threatened to escape, but she would rather die before she let this purple-haired idiot hear it. This was so intimate, so embarrassing, so... exhilarating.

 _Vanilla,_ she thought again as she got a face full of tousled, sweet-scented hair.

A long minute later, the purple-haired girl lifted her head. She was breathing heavily, her face dusted red, and she wore the content smirk of a vampire done feasting.

"My life belongs to you," she whispered, touching her forehead to Blanc's. "And your life belongs to me. So..." A shiver darted up Blanc's spine as Neptune's fingers traced the exposed skin on her collar and her neck.

"Can I show you just how much I actually like you?"

Petrified and knowing her voice wouldn't function properly, Blanc gave her approval with a nod. Neptune smiled and dipped down to give her partner another kiss. And this time, their lip lock lasted well over a second. Another jolt went up Blanc's back as she hungrily pressed her lips upwards into Neptune's.

For a moment, she surrendered completely to her lover's advances. Her will to resist gone completely, replaced by a wave of pure enjoyment. She wanted more. She wanted Neptune. She wanted this.

A hand grasped the collar of her uniform and pulled down—

"C-c-cut, cut, cut! Sorry, I can't! I can't sit through this!"

Tamsoft's stutter rang through the room, slicing through the mood like a warm knife through butter. Neptune flinched and fell forwards, smacking her head against Blanc and losing her grip on the girl's wrists.

In her haste to excuse herself, Tamsoft tripped over the camera and knocked it over. She ripped open the door and flew into the hallway— _crash!_ —and from the sound of it, ran into several people on her way out.

Neptune pulled away to rub her head and groaned in pain, leaving Blanc lying on the mattress gasping for air, winded and flushed. She fixed her outfit—Blanc could hazily remember undoing those buttons—and sat on the edge of the bed. A stupid grin appeared on her face.

"Uh, hahaha... Wow. You, er, got a little frisky there Blanc, don't ya think?"

She laughed sheepishly and broke eye contact to adjust the hem of her uniform, her words sounding composed but her fierce blush giving the game away. Blanc sat up and hastily fixed her clothes. Her hand brushed the spot on her shoulder that Neptune had kissed, and her face erupted. _It's still wet..._

And before they had any time to collect themselves, the rest of the Film Club poured into the room, sans Tamsoft and a few others who were too embarrassed to show their faces. The group of girls gathered around the set loudly, unintentionally crowding the two actors as they tried to catch their breath.

Vert was the first to address the girls directly in a clear voice. Her face glowed as if she had been the one to kiss someone, her unchecked imagination no doubt running laps.

"My, you two! From the way poor Tamsoft ran out of here, I can only imagine what you both did to... yourselves." The blonde giggled at the two actors' flustered response. Blanc cleared her throat and chose not to say anything in return.

"Sis, you were so cool!" Nepgear ran up to her sister and took her hand, eyes sparkling. "I could feel your passion from all the way out in the hallway. You were amazing!"

"Aww, thanks Nep Junior! It was fun being top," Neptune said offhandedly. She winked at Nepgear, then at Blanc. Her goal was clearly to tease Blanc even more than she already had, but the writer cleared her throat and refused to give her a single ounce.

Plutia, who had been soaking in all the banter without saying a word, approached the two, her lazy eyes having settled on the only physical proof of the deed.

"Heeey," she said, getting the attention of everyone nearby. "Blanny, what's that bruise for? Neppy... Did you hit her?"

Everyone stopped talking and followed Plutia's line of sight to the love bite on Blanc's neck. The girl hastily tugged on her collar, but it was too late. Already there were winces and murmurs among the club members. Plutia was practically phased out by the rest of the girls, her head tilted in what could be innocence. Whether or not she knew what she had started, no one couldn't tell.

Two of the girls, both founders of their own clubs, spoke quickly in undertones. "This is where rumors come from, Dengekiko," the orange-haired Famitsu said. She rubbed her gloved hands and gave her counterpart a sharp look. "For Blanc's sake, we have to be sure this doesn't get out."

For once, the mousy reporter was in agreement with her rival. "You're right. The movie isn't done, so someone could misinterpret and this could turn into a student scandal!"

Neptune's eyes went comically wide when she saw the reddening bruise on Blanc's collarbone. "Whoa my god," she gasped. "I didn't think it would leave that kind of mark!"

"Wha—you didn't even know what you were doing?! You, you just... Gah..."

Ever the good actor, Neptune smiled naively. "I just what?"

"You just—Hey, all of you _quit talking already_!"

The room quieted instantly. More than a dozen eyes on her, the brunette reached for her hat and placed it neatly on her hand. _Deep breath, in... and out,_ she told herself as she fought to control her racing heartbeat. But the one thing she couldn't regulate was the blush setting fire to her cheeks.

Uni broke the silence. She stepped forward bravely and offered, "I can get you a turtleneck sweater. Noire has so many outfits, and I get most of my clothes from her. She probably wouldn't even recognize it if she saw it. I'll get it for you later today."

Blanc nodded her gratitude. Uni did a good job of improving upon her sister's arrogant personality. Noire would have made some sort of smart comment and left it at that.

"Speaking of that, is she even here right now?" the raven-haired freshman asked, her eyes scanning the room. Her older analog had been present during the meeting before the recording, but now she was nowhere to be found.

In the student council pyramid, Noire was only slightly less important than Vert, the ASB president. Regardless, Vert weighed her vice's input very highly. As such, they could typically be found as a pair both during meetings and out of them. So it was likely that Vert knew what had happened to the missing noirette. Blanc looked to her and lifted an eyebrow, wordlessly asking the question.

"Noire started muttering something about having errands to run while we were all waiting outside," the blonde reporter. "I'll check the hallway, but I doubt she's still around."

No one else seemed to be concerned about Noire's disappearance, Neptune included. The purple-haired student stood up and stretched back, putting both hands above and behind her head. The hem of her shirt rose ever so slightly, drawing Blanc's eyes. Neptune's exposed waistline was slim, as if she exercised regularly. But with her dietary habits, how did she maintain such a good figure?

"Well, whatever about her. She'll turn up," Neptune announced to the idle club members. "I guess that's a wrap!" She tilted her head and gave her fellow actor a flirtatious look. "You think we have enough footage, Blanc? If you don't think it's enough, we can totally shoot the scene again."

The writer realized with terror that she had been watching Neptune stretch. Even during gym classes, she never paid any particular attention to Neptune. But filming the scene, her distracted mind kept wandering, picturing places that were—

"Hey, um, Blanc? My eyes are up here."

Blanc's head snapped up. Neptune made a coy face and pulled her shirt down.

"You know, they say you haven't experienced the full thing until you've been behind the scenes. How 'bout it, you and I? We can just meet up after class and..."

It was a joke. Blanc knew that. But she could only gape. _Behind the scenes? That's..._

Seconds after the words left Neptune's mouth, the room exploded into voices. The joke had gone a little too far, it seemed, as now all of the Film Club was in an uproar. Nepgear's excitement got the better of her, and a tiny squeal slipped out.

"Big Sis, you're so bold!"

"Oh my. I'm almost jealous of you two." Vert, back from checking the hallways, hid her mouth behind the back of her hand. "A real relationship born on the stage, how romantic!"

"Dude, Nepsy... You swing that way?"

Blanc ignored all the frivolous voices surrounding her. Film Club or not, every person here was still a schoolgirl at heart. There were plenty of things she wanted to say to Neptune right now: that she was a pain in the neck, she was an idiot, and above all, _yes_.

There were a lot of things she was going to say to her—but not in front of this many people. Abandoning patience, she balled her fingers and slammed her hand down on the bed as if she were holding a hammer.

"I thought I told you all to shut up!" she roared at the girls, jumping to her feet with a clenched fist. "We're done for today. Get out!"

Everyone clambered for the door. Sticking around against Blanc's will and their better judgement would only be inviting trauma. In no more than half a minute, the club room was empty save for the two people who had been there from the start.

"Neptune. Didn't I just tell everyone to get out?"

"Oh. You meant me too?" Neptune laughed dismissively. "I sorta figured you were talking at them, not me. Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me?"

Blanc locked eyes with Neptune. This was still a situation she wanted to approach calmly. Her first mistake was raising her voice and making it seem as if she were mad. In truth, she was furious. But Neptune probably knew that already.

She took a deep breath and said, "You're right. But if you think I'm gonna let you get away with saying all those stupid things out loud..."

"Stupid things? Oh, you mean the 'my life belongs to you' line? Okay, I agree that that was a little cheesy, but it just popped into my head and I thought—"

"Quit joking. You know what I'm talking about. Are you purposely trying to give people the wrong idea?"

Finally, Neptune's dorky smile faded. Her face twisted into a vaguely mystified expression.

"The wrong idea? Aren't you the one who's raising flags here? You're the one who wrote the script. I was following your orders."

"What are you saying? I'm doing my job as film director, so you should be coming to me ahead of time if there's something wrong with the script."

"I wasn't saying that the script is bad, it's just that... I don't know if you care, but um, isn't there a line to what's reasonable? I didn't even know what we were doing until today, when you announced it in front of the entire club!"

There had been a huge ruckus among the club members when they met afterschool to begin production of their third movie. Blanc's idea for the initial scene had met with a dubious reception, but no one had openly disagreed with the reasoning she put behind it. Though, Neptune had been quiet for most of the meeting.

"It takes me all night to finish the script sometimes," Blanc crossed her arms. "By the time I'm done with it, I doubt any of you are usually still awake."

Brows knitted, Neptune paused as if collecting her thoughts.

"Whatever it is," she began, "I'm not so sure about all of your late-night ideas sometimes. Are you sure you don't want help? I wouldn't want you to—"

"Help?" Blanc stopped her. As soon as the word had passed Neptune's lips, the scriptmaker knew where this conversation was headed. "Alright, Neptune, I get what you mean now. If you think the script needs beta reading or something, you could have just told me."

Neptune frowned and shook her head. "That's not what I mean," she argued. "I just think, maybe you need... a break or something. Instead of writing the whole script alone, you and I can—"

"Neptune, I don't need a break. We literally just started making the third movie, and I'm not going to die of overwork on the first day."

"Blanc, can you stop interrupting me? There's something I'm trying to tell you, but I get the feeling that I'm not getting through that head of yours."

"You aren't! I already know what you're trying to tell me, but you sound like you're still trying to skirt around it."

Having hit a wall, Neptune gave a frustrated sigh. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, fiddled with her bangs, before opening them and giving the writer a hard stare.

"Maybe I am skirting around the problem. Fine then. Blanc, I have a problem with your script."

Caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, Blanc pulled back in surprise.

"Wh-what? But you just said that wasn't the case!"

"Well, I just changed my mind. If you want to keep writing the script, then I want to see it before you show any of it to the others."

Stunned, the command rendered Blanc speechless for a couple of seconds. Did Neptune have a problem with the writing or did she not? This girl was impossible to figure out. Out of the blue, she put her foot down about being the first person to see the script.

But Blanc's confusion quickly turned to indignation, and her voice started to rise. "Why do you suddenly have to be so involved in the writing? Until now, you were letting me take it wherever I wanted!"

"I'm the president of the club, I'm supposed to get involved! So if you want to make this movie, from now on I'm gonna take a look at what you write before we record it. Capiche?"

 _What's her deal?_ Blanc narrowed her gaze at the girl across from her. Nothing Neptune was saying made any sense. Why the sudden interest in checking the script? Maybe she was mad about the scene they had just shot. Maybe she was trying to say something without actually saying it. Maybe Blanc was a little too confrontational for her own good.

"No," she said flatly. "I'm in charge of directing and writing. I'm just doing my job. That's what we agreed to, and if you renege on that then I won't work with you!"

"Aghh, alright, whatever! You aren't the director or the writer anymore! I'm at least trying to work with you, but you're being so stubborn. Why can't we just talk this out?"

Neptune's next words staggered Blanc and chilled her to the very core.

"Actually, why don't you just"—the girl pointed a finger towards the door—"leave, right now?"

"But Neptune, I'm..." She faltered. _The writer,_ she wanted to finish. _Doing my best for the movie,_ she wished she could say. But what had she been doing this whole time?

"Rude? Inconsiderate? Yeah." Neptune crossed her arms. "You sure are. If you aren't going to tell me something I want to hear, then just get out."

The intensity of the girl's glare stopped Blanc before she could say a word. She must have pushed every one of Neptune's buttons. Nothing the brunette knew to say could defuse the situation; she had never been subject to such cold hostility before, let alone from Neptune. All she could do was exactly what Neptune had commanded: leave.

A pair of purple eyes drilled into the back of her head until she exited the room. Even after the ex-director was out of sight, those unfriendly eyes burned into her mind followed her all the way to her room in the west dormitory wing. Blanc unlocked the door and slipped inside. Then, checking the hallway to be sure that she was alone, she slammed the door shut with enough power to put a crack in the wooden frame.

She took her shoes off. She unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it at a hook on the wall, revealing a plain white undershirt neatly tucked in her skirt. She didn't bother turning on the lights, opting instead to close the blinds and dim the room.

Not in the mood to do anything at all, she stopped in front of her writing desk, still covered with pages of the unfinished script. Blanc had been sure to write down every single idea: characters and roles, past developments, a to-do list of things she had planned for the future of the story. But they no longer meant anything. Every idea, every word, was worthless.

 _Fucking hell._ Shoving her chair out of the way, the writer leaned over her workspace and swept all the papers off her desk. She tore down every sheet pinned to her wall, crumpled them into balls, and threw them at the floor. Hours upon hours of work, undone in seconds. Now her prized script was nothing more than a pile of shredded paper. Broken pieces of a dream. Blanc shoved it into the forgotten corner between her desk and the wall before collapsing onto her bed.

Whether or not it was her own stubborn fault that all of this had happened, the reality of everything came crashing down on her in that instant.

 _Damn it. I'm a fucking idiot._


	3. Meetingless

Not surprisingly, Blanc didn't show up to the club meeting the next day. Neptune sat in her usual spot by the window, and in spite of her attempts to stay nonchalant, her eyes snapped up whenever the door opened. Every time, her heart skipped beats like stones over water, only for the new arrival to be anyone but Blanc.

She was going to run out of stones to skip.

There were more practical reasons to regret dissociating Blanc as well. For one, she was the sole writer in the Film Club's lineup. Her ideas may have been unconventional, and consistency was but a dream with her as screenwriter, but no one else offered to take on the tasks she readily performed. And for all her foibles, her skills were unique. Blanc delivered the script on a silver platter every day. The first two movies had only been possible because of her efforts.

Within five minutes, all the other members were present. The room buzzed with idle chat and anticipation about the new movie. No more zombies, no more academy island setting. What would happen next in Blanc's world, no one knew. Would there be political conflict or romantic drama? Another world-scale conflict, or more intimate views of characters and their relationships?

"What do you think, Sis?" Nepgear asked, calling on her sister for an expert opinion. Neptune met her eyes and quickly thought up a response. She hadn't heard the full question, but something vague would do.

"I don't think Blanc will show today," she said truthfully. "No doubt she's probably busy, thinking up some crazy story full of twists and turns." For the sake of meaningless conversation, she added, "How many plot holes did you count in the last movie, Nep Junior? You did the editing, so you must've noticed a couple. Or all of them."

"I did do the editing, with Uni's help of course, yeah. As for how many plot holes, I guess... Um, that depends on what you would call a hole and what you would call... just a really convoluted storyline?"

Nepgear went on about the overlying plot of Blanc's narrative. It seemed that five continuous days of complete immersion in video editing had drilled the story and its events into her. At this point, she could probably explain it better than the writer herself. A few words in, Neptune lost interest and let her eyes wander about the room. Those who weren't paying attention to Nepgear's diatribe talked in twos and threes around the edge of the room.

Noire, who was leaning against the wall with Vert at her side, saw and waved her over. "Hey Neptune, what's up? Blanc isn't here, and you haven't said anything yet. Is there something going on?"

"Oh, Blanc won't make the meeting today. It's a shame, but she's working her butt off to get that script to us before the world ends." It might not have been the exact truth, but it's not like Noire had joined the club for any reason besides showing off in front of a camera. The vice president scoffed and complained a bit, but the lie passed otherwise undetected.

Before Neptune could take her leave, a question popped into her head. "Hey Noire, where'd you go yesterday? We thought you died or got lost looking for a legendary something-or-other."

The black-haired student crossed her arms, her brows coming together angrily. "I'm not clumsy _or_ stupid, thank you very much. Something popped up, and I had to go take care of it. And no, you aren't getting the details."

"See, this is why you ha—"

"One more word and I'll give you a _very_ detailed explanation of what happens to people who cross me." Noire's eyes flashed, and Neptune took that as a sign to find someone else to talk to. Thankfully, Uzume had spotted her and was already on her way across the room. _Nice save, Uzume!_

An easygoing smile broke out on the transfer student's face as she greeted her friend. "Afternoon, Nepsy. How're you doing today?"

"Great, Uzume! Thanks for asking. Sometimes it's like no one else here bothers with the old 'hi and bye' anymore."

"That just means you're really close with each other! It's a good thing!" Uzume pumped her fist, full of enthusiasm and positive energy. But her smile melted away after a second, replaced by a nervous frown. "Listen, Nepsy, I was a little surprised yesterday. I, er... I didn't mean to make it sound weird. Sorry if it sounded like I was knocking you."

"Knocking me?" Neptune had to think for a moment. She hadn't talked to Uzume directly in a while, so what could she be talking about?

Then she recalled something she had heard very, very briefly yesterday. A question which had gone completely over her head.

 _"Dude, Nepsy... You swing that way?"_

At the time, so many words had been flying around that Neptune hadn't even had a chance to acknowledge that comment. She had been too busy mentally slapping herself for saying what she had said aloud to even think of a reply.

"Oh yeaaah, I remember now! Wow, so that was you, Uzume?"

The redhead offered a sheepish grin. "Er, yep. Uzume the Tactless, at your service."

Neptune didn't hold it against her. Downright honesty suited Uzume almost as well as the oversized ankle warmers she wore over her boots. "Don't worry too much about it. But you don't have to take your role as the straight man too literally, okay?"

"Straight man? What does that mean?"

Ignoring Uzume's question, Neptune went back to her seat, where Nepgear was wrapping up. "Sorry Junior, I'm back. Hope I didn't miss any big revelations."

"Well, I just finished talking about the—"

"You don't have to tell me. Just give me the cliff notes later."

The group of people who had been listening to Nepgear—the only ones who had really paid attention were Uni, Rom and Ram, and surprisingly Tamsoft—waited quietly for something to happen. Neptune pulled out her chair. Should she say something? It didn't have to be anything important, just something to fill the silence.

Tamsoft, maybe unknowingly sitting in Blanc's usual spot, made room for Neptune as she sat down. "Sorry," she said quickly. "Oh, and, erm... Sorry. About running out yesterday, that is. I lost my cool when it really hit me that I was filming... you guys. Ugh, I just felt so creepy."

The blue-haired student made a worried face, giving Neptune a sense of déjà vu. Today was a new record for apologies; first Uzume and now Tamsoft had come to her asking for forgiveness. Neptune exhaled, feeling a little better now. _The shoot yesterday really got to everyone, not just me._

"It's cool. I forgive you Tamsoft," she said easily. "But if you weren't comfortable with being the camera girl in the first place, you should have just said so. I would've switched you out with someone." Lowering her voice, she leaned in, conspiratorial. "Anyone besides Vert, that is."

"I'll keep that in mind." When Tamsoft spoke again, a new level of confidence carried in her voice. "But since it was my fault that the scene got cut off, I want to help you guys reshoot it. And this time, I'll stay till the end. I swear on it!"

Bravado or not, Neptune couldn't share in her passion. Especially not with the constant reminder that the person sitting next to her was not Blanc. _We can't even redo it because she's not coming,_ Neptune thought sardonically. _And she made it clear yesterday that she didn't want anyone to think we actually_ like _each other._

Thinking about it again sent a javelin through her chest. All the things she had done to Blanc on the bed had been dragged all the way to the set. The kisses, the sweet talk, the _intention_ had all fallen on unmoved ears.

It had all been for advancing a story. Nothing more than that.

 _"Can I show you just how much I really love you?"_ The words came back to haunt her. Yet it was just another line in a movie. A sweet little nothing she had come up with just for fun—a different kind of fun.

"What do you think, Neptune?" Tamsoft's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Take number two with me operating the camera, how 'bout it? I'll redeem myself!"

Neptune had to look at her for a second to remember what the blue-haired highschooler was going on about. Then she shook her head. "No, it isn't necessary. We can just do a fade-to-black. Take the PG out of this RPG, you get me?"

Her joke earned a few giggles from the table, the innocent twins eying Nepgear and Uni in confusion as the two covered their mouths. Even Tamsoft smiled, but apparently she was still hung up about the incomplete footage.

"But didn't Blanc say she wanted to go 'all the way'? We should ask her how it'll change the plot first," Tamsoft quoted the writer's own words, rubbing the mole under her left eye. "Is she here right now? She's never missed a meeting."

 _You're sitting in her seat, so she's obviously not here._ Neptune wanted to roll her eyes, not at Tamsoft but out of exasperation. She had done a decent job avoiding the topic of Blanc's absence so far, but it wouldn't be much time until someone grew suspicious. The longer the meeting drew on, the longer the wait for Neptune to call on everyone so they could start the day, the more visible it would become that something was wrong.

"Blanc is working on the script. Alone," she added. "Without her, we can't do anything. So let's just wait a while."

And wait they did. Tamsoft got up and went to talk with Plutia, Peashy, and some others by the door. Everyone else continued to chat, check their phones, and wait patiently for things to begin. A minute passed, then another, and another, until pretty much everyone in the room had grown tired of waiting and sent curious glances at their president.

Neptune, alone in her thoughts, jumped when someone touched her shoulder.

"Neptune?" Uni beckoned her in a low voice. "Everyone is waiting for you to say something."

Shaking off any more lingering nerves, Neptune nodded and flashed her a quick thumbs up. Uni grew more and more mature by the day, blending her sister's initiative with a level, caring head. "Oh, yeah. Of course," she answered loud enough for all to hear. Immediately, all eyes were on her. The meeting was about to start.

Neptune pushed back her chair and stood up. She fixed her uniform and put her palms on the table.

"Thanks for coming today! I have some announcements to make real quick. There's going to be some, uh, what's the word... downtime between now and when we start recording the third movie. The script isn't finished yet, and yeah. That means club activities are on break for now. I'll just contact you guys when we have another meeting, whatever works. So, uh, yeah. That's all there is on the agenda. Thanks for all your hard work, it's been a pleasure working with you guys!"

 _This may be the last time all of us are here like this,_ she thought but kept to herself. Walking with confidence, she stood at the door to the hallway and opened it wide, as if she couldn't wait for the room to vacate. Those of the Film Club hesitantly started to line up at the exit, moving like drowsy sheep towards a barn door. Neptune equipped a smile and a bubbly voice, handing out praise like pieces of candy to each person on their way out. A generic compliment tagged with a name, a high five, maybe a personalized message for every other person. Mostly everyone bought it and left so as to not hold up the line.

Noire was the last person to leave. Vert had gone ahead of her, sliding in next to Nepgear as the young girl gave her older sister a hug. Now faced with the sharp, shrewd, discerning gaze of the student council's most notorious member, Neptune didn't have to feign upturned lips; a smile came naturally as the basis for another taunt formed in her mind.

"Sorry Noire. I know you were really looking forward to making that homage for our sisters," she chirped, seeing remembrance in her friend's eyes. "You remember that, right? The one you couldn't help but agree to?"

A splutter. "Wh-what? No, nooo, I don't remember agreeing to anything like that. I was probably just caught up in the moment. Duh." Noire brought a hand to her cheek and swept aside the short jet-black ends of hair framing her face, tucking them behind her ear. Neptune didn't have to be psychic to know what was coming next. She already had an answer ready.

"Neptune, are you okay?"

"No, nothing ha—huh?" She stopped, mid-excuse. _She wasn't going to ask about yesterday?_

"You heard me," repeated Noire, stressing every syllable. "Are. You. Okay? You've been walking around like... like a regular person!"

Such an accusation would have fallen flat against anyone else, but Neptune? Something about her set her apart from most people. Noire had been around her long enough to know that something was up; otherwise, she would have missed the tired swing of Neptune's arms and the weariness in her gait.

Suddenly losing some of the will to maintain her facade, Neptune let her shoulders droop just as they would have done all day if not for her constant effort to hold them up.

"I'm fine, Noire. Thanks for asking. Really!" Hoping to provide some sort of explanation without giving too much away, she took a few moments to collect her thoughts. "It's nothing. I'm just... y'know, worried about Blanc."

"I could care less about her right now." Her interrogator frowned and looked away, scratching her cheek. "She decided to get lost on her own. Whatever she's doing takes second fiddle to you right now."

"That's... sorta sweet of you, Noire."

It slipped out before she could catch it. Her honest, unfiltered thoughts. If she could have taken them back, she would have, because it was _embarrassing_.

Neptune cringed when she realized what she had just said. Noire gave her a strange look. Seconds went by in which neither of the two broke the silence.

Finally, Noire cleared her throat and said in a small, strangled voice: "Don't mention it."

With those three words, Noire took Neptune by the wrist and lifted up her hand. Then she gave her a high five and walked out past the frozen figure of her friend.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Neptune."


	4. Noire to Be Found

Twice daily, the clock tower built atop the entrance of the academy building played a tune on the carillon, a set of bells inside the tower made to ring every twelve hours—once at six in the morning and again at six in the afternoon. There was no strict curfew at the academy, for the sake of granting freedom and independence, but the bells were a kind reminder to students to get to bed before midnight for a full night of sleep. At the sound of the evening bell, most students chose to wrap up club activities or study sessions and return to their dorms or head to the cafeteria. The doors closed prior to midnight, but students were free to return to their rooms at any time.

Thanks to this lenience, Blanc could afford to spend hours on end reading in the academy library as soon as classes ended, ensconced between the bookshelves. Even after her initiation into the Film Club, she found time to immerse herself in storybooks.

Not that the club mattered to her anymore.

Blanc had never realized, always so lost in her books, how much time she had on her hands without club activities. She had resolved to stop attending the meetings, which left her with nearly eight hours of spare time. Now, the six-o'-clock bell only meant it was time to pull out a snack from her bag by way of having dinner.

Food was normally prohibited in the library, but she made sure to respect the facility. She left no crumbs, no spills, no trash behind. It helped that she was on good terms with the librarian, a kind old man with a creased forehead and the kind of eyes that crinkled when he smiled.

Today, she had bought a steamed meat bun from the on-campus corner store and a can of juice from the vending machine. It was barely enough to hold her over until the next day, but she could eat more at breakfast tomorrow to compensate.

The bookworm unwrapped her dinner and took a bite of the doughy white bun, revealing the barbecued pork filling inside.

 _I can't focus today,_ she sighed inwardly as she ate. In the top corner of the page read the number 62, hardly an accomplishment after three hours of reading. Twenty pages per hour was barely a tenth of her usual speed.

Events from the day before plagued her mind, primarily her heated argument with Neptune, inarguably one of her closest friends to date. Things came back to her in bits and pieces, not unlike the way one recalled a movie years after watching it. Had she really threatened to quit her role as director? Had she actually interrupted Neptune that many times?

One thing etched into her memory, however, was the moment Neptune closed her eyes and opened them again, a totally different person. Finger pointed at the door, she had become the opposite of the hospitable girl Blanc thought she knew. Cold and unaccommodating, no longer content to let others have their way.

 _Are we still friends?_

Blanc racked her brain for an answer to that question. Maybe Neptune no longer thought of her as anything such; the possibility hit her like a strike to the solar plexus.

She pulled up on the knit collar of her dark-gray sweater to hide her face. But doing so reminded her of the reason she had worn the sweater in the first place—to conceal the unwanted kiss mark on her neck. The root of all her troubles, little more than a temporary embarassment.

The club meeting would have ended just now at the bell. If Blanc were quick about it, she could still catch Neptune and apologize. It wasn't too late to make amends. But would she be able to speak her mind with the rest of the club watching, up to a dozen pairs of eyes on her?

Doubts filled her mind. This situation needed a game plan. She thumbed the corner of her book, taking care not to crease the page. Maybe she could talk to Neptune in private, when she wasn't around the others. Yet none of this would work if Neptune had decided not to give her the time of day. Blanc deserved it, damn she deserved it, but the last thing she wanted was for Neptune to hate her.

Before she could muster the courage to get off her ass, someone strayed into her aisle. That black-haired someone scanned the rows of books, completely unaware of the figure sitting against the wall. Blanc recognized that hairstyle in an instant.

"Here it is!" Noire pulled a book from the shelf. " _The Delusionist's Apprentice_ ," she read. "I must be the first one to get it!"

She stuck a finger under the cover and lifted it to look at the book summary inside the cover page. Blanc couldn't resist the chance to catch the impeccable model student off guard.

"First? No, that was me."

Noire gave a tiny shriek and spun around. "I read that one as soon as it touched the shelf," the writer finished with a smirk.

"B-B-Blanc! What the heck are you doing?" Stammering, the Ice Queen VP clutched the book in both hands and took a step back. Her eyes alighted on the brunette and narrowed. "Let me just tell you that it's super weird to sit in corners and judge people as they walk by. Why are you even here?"

Closing the book she had in her lap, Blanc responded, "I'm not judging anyone. This is a library, not a courtroom. As a rule, I never judge a book by its cover."

The initial surprise settled, Noire breathed out and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her voice had reverted to its usual, low-key annoyed tone.

"It's against the rules to eat in the library," she said pointedly, her gaze honing in on the unfinished meat bun in the reader's hand. Blanc just shrugged, knowing she was somewhat of an exception to the rules.

"Of course, but I have permission from the librarian. He knows I'm here. He could have even told you where to find me if you asked him."

"What makes you think I was looking for you?" Noire retorted. "You just happened to be in the same place at the same time."

Noire had already turned away, looking at another book she had pulled off the shelf. Blanc ignored her. Between them, they had little to talk about. It pleased her that Noire knew a good book when she saw one, but aside from that there was nothing more to be said.

She finished her steam bun and popped the tab on her juice can. When she lifted it to her lips to drink, she noticed Noire still hovering at the mouth of the aisle as if she were looking for something.

"What is it? If it's a book, I can help you find it."

Noire started and absently glanced in her direction. "No, it's not that..." She trailed away. Whatever she wanted to say, it didn't come out.

Blanc took a sip from her juice can. If her interlocutor wasn't going to speak, then she herself could. "Say, where'd you run off to yesterday? Uni was looking for you after the shoot. Vert told us you had something to do."

"Y-yeah, you got it exactly," Noire laughed and twined a finger through her hair. "It was just a bit too graphic for me. I couldn't bring myself to walk in there while you two were... busy."

Blanc nodded sagely, trying not to remember what had happened back there. "Don't worry, I understand. It's fine to get embarrassed over those kinds of things. Tamsoft ran off in the middle of the shoot, and I haven't seen her since."

At the mention of Tamsoft, Noire straightened. "Tamsoft showed up to the meeting today," she mentioned offhandedly, "but you wouldn't know since you didn't show up."

An unmade point hung in the air. Blanc cursed inwardly. "It's a difficult situation," she explained carefully, hoping to avoid an interrogation. "There are a lot of things going on right now, so I might have to step back from club activities."

She shrugged like it wasn't important and set aside her beverage, trading it for her book. She had hoped that the Ice Queen would get the hint, that the conversation was over, but unfortunately her subtlety went unnoticed.

"You?" Noire lifted an icebrow. "The Film Club's savant screenwriter needs a break from writing?"

"Even I can't handle everything at once. I'm a normal, flawed person."

The excuse didn't have much of an effect on Noire's stance. Two dark red eyes squinted at her, scanning for any signs of falsity. Noire was visually patting her down for secrets. "Neptune was acting really strange today," she said in an unreadable tone of voice. This got Blanc's attention in a heartbeat.

"How strange?" she prompted, almost afraid to hear the answer. "Was she more meta than usual?"

"Not any more than she usually is. But she seemed... listless. Almost like she didn't want to do anything, but more like she didn't know what to do with the club."

Of course Neptune would do a terrible job directing club activities. Her position as president was more of a sinecure than anything else. Blanc had practically run the club in her stead. Unless one of the other members took charge, the Film Club was a headless chicken.

"... And so for the entire time, we're sitting around doing absolutely nothing at all," Noire continued. "Then Neptune stands up to say that we're finished early and that she'll contact us when we start having meetings again."

The writer blinked and looked up. She wasn't sure she had heard that right. "What do you mean 'again'?" she asked, almost in a daze.

"You heard me. According to Neptune, our scriptwriter is apparently nose to the grindstone right now, trying to come up with enough material so we can continue filming."

Neptune must have lied to Noire why Blanc hadn't been there today. Now Noire had found the no-show in the library. Neptune's lie debunked, Blanc herself was in the line of fire. _Well, shit._

Butt of many jokes or not, the vice president was a smart girl, no doubt about it. Blanc had predicted from the second Noire appeared that the topic of her absence would come up, but she hadn't readied an answer. Regardless, Noire wasn't budging. The only way out of this was to start talking.

The brunette crossed her arms, scrunched her shoulders, and reluctantly uttered the name she had purposely avoided speaking aloud.

"I got into an argument with Neptune after the filming about... my work ethics, I guess. And well, she kicked me out of the club." Near the end of her sentence, a shred of emotion bled into her voice. Keeping her voice level proved to be an impossible task no matter how much she tried.

"An argument? With Neptune?" Noire gaped. Blanc didn't blame her; probably neither of them had ever met anyone else as complacent as their mutual friend.

"I guess I did something stupid that she didn't appreciate. But it was my fault everything escalated this far. All she said was that I couldn't show anyone the script without her approval."

Even her own actions seemed shallow now that she had calmed down. A lingering sense of shame ate away at her. She felt awful for losing her temper, but how did Neptune feel? Worse? Depressed?

If there was any justification for her mistakes, she saw none of it.

"Noire," began the troubled writer, "if... if you tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, then—"

"Don't bother with the threats. Trust me, what would I gain from gossiping about you?"

Noire moved closer and sat down, laying aside the book she had picked out to give the girl her full attention as if saying, "Go on. I'm listening."

Blanc took a second to breathe. Inhale, exhale. Then she filled her lungs and prayed the story would tell itself. "Neptune was upset with me. And I know it's because of the shot we filmed, even though she never said it directly. But I'm not stupid, Neptune's never cared about what we do for the movie. If it's silly, she laughs at it. If it doesn't make sense, she'll just go with it. But this is the first time she's ever openly complained about anything."

She stopped to collect herself. Not knowing how to explain what happened next. In the pause Noire asked, "Did you ask her about the shot before you started filming?"

Blanc shook her head. The script had been finished the night before at an ungodly time, its writer asleep moments after climbing into bed. Calling someone at that hour had never even crossed her mind, and surely Neptune wouldn't have appreciated a post-midnight phone call about recording a sex scene, of all things.

"And Neptune had no time to think it over," Noire said aloud, coincidentally finishing Blanc's thoughts. "Since you told her ten-minutes-to. If I were in her shoes, I'd have stopped you right there and told you we weren't filming."

"But when we were on camera, she..." Blanc bit her lip, recalling the moments Neptune had kissed her. "She seemed more into it than I was."

"She was acting," the girl cut in. "You know, following a script? She was probably just going with the flow so she wouldn't cause a scene. Think about it: Neptune of all people. She's always aware of her surroundings to the point of self-aware. Chances are, she was being considerate for _you_. Do you think she would have stood up in front of the entire club and said she didn't want to... do it with you on camera?"

Blanc couldn't say anything in defense. Hearing Noire say it aloud made it inescapable—no more excuses. Of course Neptune, for all of her flaws, would have done something like that. It was more than plausible, it was probable. No matter how much the extrovert tried the patience of everyone around her, her heart always led the way. Nobody had more charisma than she did. Yet she still had feelings of her own. There was only so far she would allow herself to be shoved around and trampled underfoot until she started to push back.

Somehow without realizing, Blanc had crossed that line without knowing. Somehow, she had forgotten to think of her as an individual. It was no surprise that Neptune lashed out like she had. If anyone acted with that much scorn for another person's feelings, then it was only right.

 _I know what I did was terrible,_ Blanc conceded. From the very start, she had figured it herself but refused to admit it. She had been the one pushing the limit of what was acceptable. Putting her good friend in that situation in front of so many other people was thoughtless. Heartless. _What was I even thinking?_

She had been so wrapped up in making the movie something amazing that she forgot to consider her own partner.

Guilt choked her. Guilt was her least favorite feeling in the world. Blanc hated dwelling on her past mistakes. She hated feeling helpless when things went wrong. Even worse, because of her. She felt _bad_ , and punching a wall or screaming and cursing couldn't clear it away like it could frustration. It wasn't that simple.

Wit failed her. Words didn't form. She couldn't speak, crushed by the weight of breaking the heart of the happiest person in the world, her own best friend. Almost unforgivably.

What could she say right now that wasn't cheap and superficial? An apology? An affirmation? _I'm sorry_ or _I'll make it up to her_? There wasn't a single thing she could do in this moment that would make up for the emotional pain she had caused.

Noire stood up and dusted off her skirt.

"Lemme just say this. You're either a bitch or the stupidest dreamer I've ever met."

Blood began to boil in Blanc's veins at the barefaced insult. True or not, that was something she couldn't take sitting down.

"But that's just my opinion," Noire went on. "Neptune liked you. The way you two act outside of the Film Club, the way you two are like inside the clubroom. And it's pretty freaking obvious that she didn't mind making out with you in front of a camera. I don't know how you managed to mess things up this badly, but whatever you said or did to her seriously made her change her mind. I can't tell if she's worried about you or if she wants nothing to do with you. Knowing her, it's probably some combination of both.

"So listen Blanc. You only have one chance at this. If you want to stay friends with Neptune, then just get your shit together and talk to her. But don't go running up to her door as soon as I leave, and don't come crawling back to her on hands and knees either. Pathetic doesn't suit you."

Noire ran a hand through her hair and walked away, leaving Blanc lost in her thoughts all alone.

For a few seconds, Blanc gawked in disbelief at the space where Noire had been. After saying all those things, she just left. Just like that.

She sighed and rubbed her temple. This whole thing was a pain in the neck, but Noire was right. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she had to get it together and talk to Neptune before the damage done became irreparable.

A new sense of purpose, Blanc nodded to herself and drew in a deep breath. Then she put her face in her hands and let out a long tired sigh.

 _ **Just Another Love Story**_

Noire found Uni in the rec room, seated around a circular table with the three other Candidates. Her younger sister was listening intently along with Nepgear to a story the two twins were telling. Then the four of them burst into laughter.

"Uni?" Noire cleared her throat, waving awkwardly. The four of them stopped and looked at her, smiles fading ever so slightly. "Uh, sorry... Can I talk to you for a second?"

"N-Noire?! Um, of course." Uni nodded and pushed her chair back, leaving a bottled soft drink on the table. "I'll be right back, guys."

Beckoning for her to follow, Noire led her outside into the hallway. Nobody was hanging around outside, so it was perfect for what Noire needed to ask. Her younger sister stopped a short distance away and stood at nervous attention, arms bolted to her sides.

Her voice trembled a bit. "What is it, Noire? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, but I wanted to ask you something. I met Blanc in the library earlier."

"O-oh, I see. So that's where she was hiding. Aha ha." Uni fidgeted a bit. "W-what did you find out from her?"

"Uni..." Tired of beating around the bush, Noire crossed her arms and frowned. "She was wearing one of the sweaters I gave you."

"... I can explain."


	5. Final Cut

The shortest route from Neptune's final class period to her room took her the opposite direction of other senior classrooms, past the first-years' hallway and up a flight of stairs to the left-side wing of the academy dormitories. Should she walk quickly and take no detours, she could be at her doorstep in only one minute and thirty-four seconds after the bell.

Getting to her room without wasting any time dominated her thoughts. Now that club meetings were no longer in session, she would have an easy time avoiding the others. And the less time she spent chatting and deflecting questions from her friends and colleagues, the better. Everyone was curious about what would happen to the club now—maybe excluding Noire, whose indifference was a welcome sight—but Neptune had no answers for them yet.

The Film Club could barely function without its most committed member. They had no script. They had no storyboard, no leadership, no autonomy. Neptune couldn't lead them by her lonesome; she had no idea what to do without a script to work with. That was something she had known from the very beginning when she had roped her younger sister and the twins into her whimsical plans. Sure, watching movies together had been fun. But Blanc was the person who had transformed the Movies and Popcorn Club into a de facto Film Club and made a real impact.

Now she was gone, and everything Neptune had looked forward to after the school day had disappeared as well.

Right as the bell rang, she was out of her seat and into the hallway. From here to the stairs was about a minute's walk, and the chances that she would bump into someone she didn't want to talk to were low.

"Hey, it's Big Sis!"

A voice intercepted her at the T-intersection of the freshman and senior hallways. _Drat._ Nepgear, cheerful and sweet as ever, waved at her from near the windows. Though the older sister contemplated returning the wave and being on her way as if in a hurry, she decided it would be cruel to ignore her own sibling.

"Hiya Nep Junior!" she greeted and made her way over at a slow, unhurried walk. "Oh, you're with Uni too. You two up to something or what?"

Uni seemed content to let her lilac-haired friend explain that the twins were going to join them for a snack in the cafeteria. Neptune smiled at her, and she returned the favor with a tip of her head.

"Why don't you join us, Sis?" invited the younger Nep sister. "You're the only one out of all our sisters who isn't doing anything, so—wait, that was rude. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that!"

"Calm your gears, Junior." Neptune laughed naturally. Nepgear was such a nice girl who tried so hard to be considerate _._ It warmed her heart, dissolving the stress that had grown there. Tempting as it was to accept, something held her back from saying yes. "As much as I would love to join your posse, maybe not now. It's... um. A bad day for me."

Even now, she had to dig to put an easygoing note in her words. There was no way she could fully explain herself in a place like this, passersby all around and two eyes waiting on her expectantly. She really did want to go with them, so why pass up a chance to hang out with Nepgear and her group? Her shoulders felt as if an invisible force pulled them down. Was it fatigue? Mental exhaustion? Maybe she was afraid to see a few familiar faces too many. Chances were, among the Candidates she would be the center of attention, which was exactly the opposite of what she wanted to be right now: discreet.

"Why not, Neptune? There's no club today, so come hang out with us." Uni sounded eager, as if she was looking forward to having Neptune along. Unfortunately, her request had come at the worst time.

"Wish I could, but I can't. Extra homework from the teach. I need to bunker down and get it all outta the way, you know the drill. Plus, I gotta be a good role model for my lil' sis here, bwa ha ha!" Neptune put an arm around her younger sister's shoulders and pulled her into a headlock, ruffling her hair affectionately. She held the struggling Nepgear there for a few seconds before letting go. "You turned in all your homework and stuff, Nepgear?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah. Already..."

"Alright, good! Catch ya later, you two! Have fun with the twins!"

Already walking away, Neptune headed back and turned the corner to climb the flight of stairs that went up to the dorms.

Uni watched her leave for a second before returning her attention to Nepgear, who was fixing her hair with an idle hand. "Nepgear? What's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"She called me Nepgear..."

"What? Is that weird?"

"Um. N-no, it's nothing to worry about. Let's go Uni, Rom and Ram are probably waiting for us."

On the second floor, Neptune released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. If talking with those two was a battle, then she was underleveled. They hadn't even asked any tough questions about the club. She was just so distracted that her basic conversational skills malfunctioned.

Designed to emulate a large modern hotel, the second floor of the academy was a more intricate layout of hallways and doorways. Most times of day it was empty, and even now Neptune was the only one around. _It'll be this way till six._ She sighed in relief at the thought. _How long will I be able to keep this up?_

She found her room number and slipped inside, locking the door shut behind her. She had never felt so glad to be an esteemed CPU, as her status had given her priority to a coveted privilege: having one of the few single dormitories for herself. Unlike eighty percent of the students on campus, she didn't need to share a room with anyone.

Now she was alone. Safe. Away from prying eyes and ears.

"I didn't think it'd be so hard to act like a light-hearted schoolgirl," she said with a dry laugh. Her bag, she shrugged off her shoulder and dropped next to the wall. She sat on the edge of the bed and kicked her shoes off, sliding them under the bed with her foot. There wasn't a single thing she needed from her school bag right now. Homework had only been an excuse to get out of socializing. _Sorry for lying to you, Nep Junior._

A slight breeze blew in through the window, gently moving the curtains. Although the lights were off, afternoon sunlight flooded the room with rays. _A little too bright,_ Neptune decided and drew the curtains. They still let light into the room, but the diaphanous fabric filtered out enough light to make it comfortable.

She walked across the room to the TV opposite her bed and bent down, fumbling under her television stand for a controller. Times like this were when she wished she had something else to occupy herself with besides just video games. In a way, she envied Noire, who could apply herself to work and study at the push of a button.

Neptune shook her head and put a grin on her face. "No point worrying about the silly stuff now!" Settling herself on the edge of the bed, she grabbed a remote from atop her wardrobe and crossed her legs. A few hours of gaming would do her good.

The Film Club had been fun, but it was over now. And she was tired of acting. Of pretending. Of being told to put on her emotions like a stage costume and take them off at the sound of a clapperboard.

Then everything from the past few days hit her all at once. The curved black game controller in her hands started to shake, and she dropped it to wipe at the burning sensation in her eyes.

"It... It's been... r-really fun, guys..."

 _ **Just Another Love Story**_

Blanc peered through the window slit of the unused classroom claimed by the Film Club. All the desks were arrayed in neat rows and columns rather than sloppy groups of three and four on one half of the room. The recording set and newly acquired greenscreen, a reward from the academy for saving the school, were pushed against the back wall. Blanc squinted into the vacant room with growing confusion. Something must have happened yesterday, while she had been hiding out in the library. _Where is everyone?_

"Blanc?" Right behind her came a familiar voice. "Looking for someone?"

Tensing up, Blanc whipped around. "Nep... gear. Oh, er... I guess so, yeah."

The similarities in voice and hair had thrown her off for a second. The Planeptune siblings juxtaposed each other so well that Blanc had never thought she would ever mistake one for the other. Now that she had made that mistake, she couldn't tell if she was relieved or disappointed to be faced with the younger of the two sisters.

"I forgot my bag in my classroom and I saw you on your way to the club room," Nepgear explained, oblivious of Blanc's internal plight. "Neptune called off club meetings yesterday. She said you were working hard on the script and it was best not to rush you."

 _That's weird,_ was Blanc's immediate reaction. Even before Blanc had become the scriptwriter, the club had still met everyday. Given, the original four members hadn't done anything besides watch movies, but they had still come together to do nothing. "Neptune did? Really?"

Nepgear nodded, confirming her suspicions. _I know why,_ Blanc thought. But she didn't say anything to Nepgear; the girl's face was twisted with worry. An innocent, caring soul like hers didn't deserve to be burdened with that sort of negativity and drama. "I'm sure she's just being considerate." The writer scratched the back of her head and readjusted her hat. "I, uh, should probably thank her if I get the chance."

Even as she said it, Blanc knew she wouldn't get around to it for a long time if ever. There were more pressing things on her mind, like finding her friend in the first place. If Neptune wanted to avoid her, she was doing a good job of it so far. Blanc had gone directly to the club room after classes let out, but she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the person she needed to talk to. And the Film Club's room, the most convenient place to catch her, was little more than a locked door.

Blanc sighed and grit her teeth. Just when she had found the courage to track Neptune down and apologize, the girl was nowhere to be found. This was turning out to be more of a tracking mission than it was necessary.

Still standing in the same spot, Nepgear shifted backwards slightly. "Um... I should get my bag. Uni, Rom and Ram are waiting for me to come find them. Blanc..." The girl hesitated and glanced towards the end of the hallway, where the stairs that led up to the second floor were located. "Good luck writing the script."

With that, she gave a little wave and walked away, tugging open one of the doors along the hall and disappearing inside. Blanc watched for a second, then swiftly walked back in the direction of her classroom so that Nepgear wouldn't see her still standing in front of the empty room when she came out.

What else was there to do? She had decided to show her face at the club, but meetings had been canceled yesterday. Had she missed her chance?

She didn't know where to find Neptune, nor did she know the girl's dorm number. If only she could bump into her in the cafeteria or after class, this wouldn't be a problem. Fortunately, Neptune wasn't the type to avoid people—nor hold a grudge. She would show up eventually, but until then Blanc needed to think long and hard about what she was to say. Words alone couldn't make up for what she had done, she knew that. Whatever plan she came up with, it would have to somehow bridge the gap between them. She desperately wanted to make up with her closest friend; that was the feeling she needed to convey.

For the time being, she headed for the library to give herself some room to think.


	6. 888-NEP-TUNE

Every time Blanc stepped out into the halls, she scanned the groups of students milling about after class hoping to spot an unmistakable head of purple hair. Yet no matter how much she looked, she never got even a glimpse of her friend—not even after a week had passed since the last disastrous club meeting. It was as if Neptune was determined to avoid her.

Not that the brunette couldn't guess why.

Even Noire seemed to be ignoring her. On the occasion that the two passed in the hallway, and they did so many times while Blanc was searching, a cold tension formed in the air between them. More than once, the vice president had fixed her with an icicle-sharp glare.

 _Was what I said really that terrible?_ Blanc dreaded as she stowed a plain white binder and hardbound notebook into her bag. Even Noire was out of sympathy.

After her encounter with Lastation's most diligent in the library, heavy thoughts plagued the writer wherever she went. The self-deprecation was there: She was a horrible person. A jerk. Neptune hates her now.

But those thoughts were irrational and easy to dispel. Even worse was the brooding: Would Neptune ever talk to her again? Would everyone she knew learn about what had happened and shun her? Was her relationship with Neptune, Noire, even Vert, stained forever?

This whole situation was steeped in melodrama. But it was complicated, too complicated to fix in a single step.

Of course, Blanc had tried to take the first step. But it was virtually impossible with Neptune actively avoiding her. If only she knew the number of Neptune's dormitory, she could go talk to her in person.

The day she had talked with Noire in the library, Blanc had returned to her room after an early dinner in the cafeteria—no sight of Neptune there, either—and took out her phone with the intent of calling Neptune. And she hadn't intended to apologize over a distance; that felt cheap and too easy. Her apology would happen in person, _in propria persona_. Face to face.

She had selected Neptune's number on her list of contacts, dialed, and—

 _"Heya, you've reached 888-NEP-TUNE! I'm not here to pick up my phone, so leave a message at the tone, and I'll get back to you in eight bit!"_

—and seized up like a broken robot. Her voice had run dry, barely been able to croak, "N-Ne..." before panicking and hanging up.

She had left a proper voicemail once her confidence had returned. But Neptune never returned her call.

Even after sending several meticulously typed texts, Blanc got no response. She had apologized, negotiated, pleaded. Gone through so many anxious, desperate stages to try and communicate with her best friend. She checked her phone every few minutes hoping every time that there would be a new notification.

However it was spun, Neptune clearly wanted a certain someone out of her life.

Blanc couldn't bring herself to let go of their friendship that easily, yet her friend seemed determined to burn every bridge and plug every hole. How was she supposed to approach?

"Still here, Blanc?" A curious feminine voice reached out across the room, cutting the silence and snapping the troubled student out of her daze.

"Oh, sorry Teacher. I was in the middle of packing up, and I had this really good idea for a story..."

"Ah, I see. I've had those moments too, where I'm in the middle of doing something and suddenly, bam! I get so distracted that I can't even remember what I was just working on."

Blanc hurriedly put away her school supplies and left the room, waving to her teacher who was standing at the lectern with an accommodating smile.

It wasn't the first time this week that the brunette had gotten lost in thought after classes ended. Nevertheless, her mentor hadn't asked any prying questions. As if all she had to know was that her student needed some room to think, and allowing her to do that was helpful enough already. _Minding her own business while still showing concern for others,_ Blanc gathered, impressed. _She really is a nice person._

A meager group of students leaned up against the arched metal supports near the windows and chatted, every so often bursting into laughter at some unheard joke. Blanc headed past them.

Her routine of visiting the library every day hadn't been broken. Even when she could hardly focus on reading, this last week especially, she found it sufficient to just sit there with a book in her hand and rack her brain. To do some meditation in a spot where scarecely anyone else wandered.

For the second time in a short while, someone called her name en route to her quiet place. Hearing short footsteps behind her, Blanc turned to face whoever was following her.

"Uni?" she greeted quizzically. "And Nepgear? What is it?"

The pair of freshmen stood a few meters away from her. Uni came to a complete stop and held an arm out in front of her buddy, motioning for her to wait.

"Uni..."

"Just wait, Nepgear."

Her tone firm, the black-haired junior left her friend's side and stood close to Blanc with an unreadable expression. She looked over her shoulder. Poor, obedient Nepgear was still waiting back there, wringing her hands and looking out the window towards the wall of trees off the academy grounds.

"What is it, Uni?" Blanc asked again in a low voice. She had already returned the girl's sweater, since the mark on her neck had faded.

Her underclassman bit her lip in concentration. "It's about Neptune," she said bluntly. "Or rather, what happened between you and her. I want to know."

Uni crossed and uncrossed her arms as if she were walking the line between confidence and mindfulness.

It took Blanc a few seconds to process what she had just heard. But the question remained, what reason did Uni have to butt in? Was the girl really naive enough to think that she could strongarm the details out just because she wanted to?

"Mm." Blanc tried to ignore her and walk away. Not a question she cared to answer. But Uni stayed in the corner of her eye, moving alongside her. "Go bug Neptune if you're so damn curious. Don't bother me about it."

"You don't think I would have done that already? Neptune's been avoiding everyone. _Everyone_! Nepgear asked her three times already, but she always slips away without giving a clear answer."

"Uni, it's okay, just d—"

"Quiet, Nepgear! Just wait, alright?"

Uni spun around, fuming, and cut her friend off. It was as if the younger Candidate had stepped on a tripwire; Nepgear fell silent and cast her eyes downwards. There wasn't anything she could do to hold Uni back now.

Blanc couldn't remember a time that the ravenhead had lost her temper like this. Thin shoulders squared, fingers balled into fists, eyes narrowed as if visualizing the best place to land a punch. Uni treated Nepgear with so much respect, almost reverence at times, it was practically unimaginable that she would ever use such a savage tone against her. How come she was so worked up over a problem that wasn't even her own?

Uni carried on before Blanc could begin to wonder why.

"Nepgear is beside herself, worried sick about Neptune! And she's too afraid to do anything, 'cause it's like her sister's suddenly closed up to her! You must know something. You started this whole thing in the first place, so how about you show some concern like the rest of us?"

Her words spoke for themselves. So this outburst of anger was for someone else's sake. Uni's way of addressing the issue when Nepgear was too afraid to do so herself. Blanc respected her for that.

But Noire's little sister couldn't have picked her words poorer.

"Concern? Just because I don't walk around moping doesn't mean I don't care." Blanc stood up straight and lifted her chin, locking eyes with the brazen idiot. "Neptune is my friend, believe it or not, and I want to fix things just as much as you do."

First the older sister starts giving her the stinkeye, and now the younger thinks can get away with getting pushy? The Lastation duo needed a reality check.

"Uni! Blanc!" Amidst a sea of turning heads, Nepgear finally gave in and hurried towards the two. "You shouldn't—"

"If you want to _fix things_ , maybe you should stop being stubborn and go find Neptune. It's not this hard to talk to someone, and you two are supposed to be friends!"

"Find her? What do you think I'm trying to do, for god's sake? And it doesn't help that you and your bitch of a sister are on my case about it! Don't blame me just because she's moody and doesn't want to deal with you!"

Nepgear grabbed her friend by the arm as if to pull her away, begging, "Don't get mad at Blanc, it's not her fault! Stop it, you shouldn't be talking to her like this!"

Uni gave a few steps backwards, apparently finding her lilac-colored counterpart to be a little stronger than expected. Yet she didn't shake her arm free like Blanc thought she would.

Her last words pierced the silence like a rose thorn through a gardener's glove.

"I feel sorry for Neptune, if you're the best friend she has. At least my sister is there for her."

Uni finally freed her arm, turning and passing the girl who had been trying to get her to leave in the first place.

At that moment, it registered with the brunette that all eyes were on her. Nepgear's penitent look, Uni's hateful gaze, and the curious attentions of students watching from both ends of the hall. Beyond her own breathing, Blanc couldn't make out a sound.

Why did she feel like she had lost? That Uni had gotten under her skin, but the only person who had done wrong was herself? Did everyone know something she didn't?

 _What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_ she wanted to scream. But she needed a real answer, one that would help her.

"I'm trying my hardest, why don't you get that damn it?!" She shouted, feeling her voice start to crack as if she were losing her voice. "I need her room number! I just need a freakin' chance to make it up to her! Uni, Nepgear—please!"

On hearing her name, Neptune's younger sister jumped and looked back. Even at a distance, her face said everything. She wanted to answer.

Her lips parted, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a startled noise when Uni reached out and grabbed her wrist, jerking her away.

"Come on Nepgear. Let her figure it out if she actually cares."

The two moved farther and farther away, one stumbling behind the other. Blanc watched with a sinking feeling as Uni dragged Nepgear away, denying her the chance to shout those three little numbers that Blanc needed to hear.

A small crowd had gathered around her, taking in with prying eyes the drama unfolding before them. Standing alone in the middle of the corridor, out of breath, Blanc gave those nearest her a death glare. The bystanders quickly dispersed, leaving enough room for her to slip past and make tracks for the library.

"Wait, wait, Blanny..."

Unexpectedly, an unhurried voice stopped the writer in her tracks after she thought she had gotten away. She recognized the speaker instantly, and her entire being shuddered as if someone had played a piano riff on her spine.

Genuinely fearing that she had tread on the toes of a sleeping dragon, Blanc stopped in her tracks and turned around, a muddled excuse already forming in her head.

"P-Plutia..." And was met with the dragon's characteristic gentle smile. "You saw all that?"

"Mhm... I think it's a good thing that you're trying to do the right thing." The girl nodded a couple times and touched her fingertips together, holding a braid in place in front of her chest. "What happened between you and Neppy? Did you two have a fight?"

Blanc made a face. Sometimes Plutia's reasoning was so simple that admitting she was right made everything feel less dire.

Taking the brunette's hesitation as an affirmative, Plutia smiled like someone who had just rediscovered a favorite book.

"Well, I can help you, because... da da na naaa... I know Neppy's room number!"


	7. Lost and Found

Noire tapped her foot and crossed her arms, standing in front of the niche in the wall around Neptune's room door. She had knocked earlier, but still she waited to hear the footsteps of someone inside coming to let her in. Minutes had passed, when in reality she should not have been kept waiting for more than thirty seconds.

 _What is she doing in there?_ Patience dwindling, Noire put an ear up to the door and knocked again, listening closely for the slightest sound of life. This process should have been routine by this point. Not even Neptune could forget that Noire had come by every day for almost a week now—ever since the suspension of the Film Club's activities.

Not a sound from within. Not even the noise of a video game. Noire huffed and settled her back against the wall of the entryway. If Neptune had decided to lock herself up like a mouse in its hole, then Noire would play the role of the patient cat. However, it was beyond logic that Neptune would suddenly start ignoring her. All week, Neptune had accepted and maybe even appreciated her company. There had to be a different reason she had not opened the door: She was sleeping, or she had not come back to her room yet. Yet where else would she have gone?

Noire's mind wandered as she got comfortable next to the closed door. The stern shape of her lips melted away as she relived what had happened earlier that week.

As any good friend would have done, she had grown worried having not heard a peep from Neptune all weekend. For a normally proactive socialite, Neptune not begging to hang out was abnormal. So the next day, not even an hour after classes had ended, Noire had climbed the stairs to the second floor and rapped her knuckles on the door she knew belonged to Neptune, and she had waited. And waited.

Eventually, she had gotten tired of waiting and dialed Neptune's number on her phone, only to be redirected to an obnoxious voicemail that only Neptune could have thought up.

When told to leave a message after the beep, she had started to talk as if she were actually standing face to face with Neptune. _"Neptune, I'm giving you three seconds to answer the door. One. Two. Th—"_

At that moment, she had heard something hit the ground with a _thwump_. The door had opened a few instants later, revealing a messy-haired moron with a smile that said she had just tumbled out of the bed to make it to the door in time.

The memory filed itself away. More than a few minutes had passed by now, and a familiar impatience took root in her mind. Something was wrong, else Neptune would have come out by now. Either sleep had a firm hold of her, or she really had not come back yet. Today marking the end of the week, the possibility that Neptune had gone to the school's convenience store to stock up on snacks and food was very real. Sensible, in fact, even probable. _Maybe I'll do that myself. I could bump into her too._

Already drawing out the path to the campus corner store in her head, Noire left the quiet dormitory alone and thought instead about what she could whip up for a meal plan this weekend. Something sweet for dessert, definitely, and a hearty dish she could make one day and heat up the next.

Before she could walk very far, her phone vibrated in the pocket of her skirt. The caller identity, when she had dug her cell out and glanced at the screen, made her put all other thought processes on hold. Her thumb had tapped the answer button before even the second vibration.

"Neptune? What's up? Where are you right now?" she asked, the questions unceremoniously spilling from her lips.

"Whoa, that was fast! Hi there, Noire." Neptune greeted through the receiver, her voice hampered by feedback that never seemed to end, "And I'm, uh, not sure."

 _ **Just Another Love Story**_

Despite its namesake, Gamicademi Island drew most of its livelihood from the sprawling city bordering the actual school. Expansive, modern, and impossibly picturesque, a megalopolis like this provided no end for ambitions. Thrill-seeking youth filled residential towers, smart prospectors set up shop along major roads. Built of metal and glass, from the impressionable carbon-steel roads to the tops of every building to pierce the heavens, a civilization like this existed for some architects only in dreams.

Not every building soared a hundred of meters into the sky, and those that did not stood out for being remarkably out of place in a giant's playpen. One café, whose outdoor seating jutted out to cover half the sidewalk, sat almost as if at the base of a great wall, for how huge the buildings were behind it. Though its exterior fit in well with the fluid urban environs, what was visible through its glass windows looked like an old-world coffee shop with chalkboard-black walls and hanging lights over the counter and every table. A charming appearance in a dense concrete jungle, its design was no doubt meant call out to the city's tireless business class coming home from work.

In front, seated at a round table with her arms folded on the polished limestone surface, Neptune gazed vacantly at the glass-windowed face of a business office across the street. And in front of her was a menu printed on creamy paper, its choices centered neatly on the page. It offered a limited selection of sandwiches and drinks, but despite the loose credits in her pocket, there was too much on her plate already to be excited at the prospect of a meal.

She had gone for a walk to clear her head as soon as classes permitted. What had driven her to do so, she did not remember exactly. The notion of leaving the school and walking around the city had come to her as a spontaneous thought, like a falling leaf touching the surface of a pond. It just _happened_.

In a city like this, Neptune would normally never lose her way. But she had taken a few turns without paying attention, her mind playing back a sequence of events that always came back to that day she argued with Blanc, a week ago.

At one point, her feet had taken her across the river separating the academy's half of the island from the city, and yet she could not remember when.

Every step had taken her into territory less and less familiar. This city and its design were still unknown to her. It covered a literal half of the island and was only marginally like the place of her birth, Planeptune. _That_ place she knew like the back of her hand, but this place?

When her pace had finally slowed to a halt and she had looked around only to recognize nothing around her, the nameless energy source powering her legs had just fizzled out. She had slumped into the nearest chair—which happened to belong to the café—and let her shoulders fall. This far from the grounds, there was no risk of being seen by anyone she knew.

Now, about five minutes later, one of the waitresses walked toward her to see if she had finished reading the menu. A woman in her early twenties, she wore a welcoming smile and held out a miniature notepad. Her black hair was tied up in a short black ponytail that draped over her shoulder like a fur.

"Hey," she greeted Neptune cordially, "You must've come from the academy; we're too far to get a lot of you students. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

That friendly smile persisted even after Neptune shook her head. "No thanks, I'm... waiting for a friend."

"Alright. Wave if you change your mind, dear."

The waitress walked away, leaving Neptune to herself. Thankfully, there was only a modest amount of business at the café. She could see inside the building, where a few business suits sipped their coffee and frowned at their laptops.

Enough seating to accommodate all the clientele meant that she would not be turned away even if she waited to order anything. At the very least, it bought her more time to sit and mull over her situation. Resting her chin on her hand, she breathed in and released a long puff of air.

Bored of waiting, she reached into her pocket and checked her phone. An hour and a few minutes had passed since the end of class. Taking into account the time she had spent returning to her room—not long—and getting ready to go out, she was probably at least thirty-five minutes out from the academy building. Noire would not be here for a while.

 _Noire._ More than it should have, the name lingered on her mind the way a coin glinted at the bottom of a pond, making her subconsciously glance from time to time to check that it was still there.

Neptune couldn't remember the last time she had wanted to see someone so badly. All last week she had lived under a storm cloud. Blanc had left a sour taste in her mouth—or, rather, it was the words they had traded that she could not wash down with a glass of juice. Things had escalated so quickly, and Neptune knew it was not wholly her own fault; her friend had a short temper, and sometimes good friends were prone to argue often. But the conversation had taken a horribly wrong turn at some point, maybe due to her own inability to say what she had wanted from the start. _All I wanted was for her to talk to me more._ Agonized, Neptune bowed her head lower, until the limestone table was all that she could see.

Blanc was such a hard worker. Stubborn, unyielding, but oh so solitary. Neptune had wanted to lend a hand with the tedium that her willful director took on all alone without complaint. Being president, she should have been helping from the get-go. But Blanc had taken her proffered assistance in all the wrong ways. If Neptune had cut to the point instead of dancing about the subject, trying to be subtle, this situation could have been a hundred times better. Her own feelings, she had bottled up to keep her voice from quivering, her legs from giving. Just so she could talk to Blanc with a calm face, a conversation that should have been over in minutes.

Then—when exactly, she did not remember—the jar holding them had tipped and shattered, and the mean words inside had taken to the air with the beating of a hundred wicked wings. _What did I say to her,_ Neptune withered, cursing herself. _She must hate me now._

Something crept up behind her eyes. Her hardest to push it back down was not enough. These tears had already been shed, and for the very same thoughts, but in the privacy of her own room. No, she could not cry twice over spilled milk—not here in public, with prying eyes everywhere.

She had hardly left her dorm room last weekend. Those forty-eight hours she had spent confined within her chamber, she had killed with her collection of video games and a few books. But the only thing she remembered was lying in bed dreading the next morning, when she would have to go back to class and smile again. Oh, she had tried to act as if nothing were wrong. Tried to keep everything under wraps, so nobody would get involved with her problems.

Maybe stupidly, she had underestimated the strength of her emotions to bring her down. How hard _was_ it to just ask for help?

That was when Noire had shown up in front of her door and demanded to be let in.

Noire had ordered her through the phone, voice sharp as a switchblade, to unlock the door or else. A momentary terror had filled Neptune's body. What had she done this time, to incur Noire's anger when she already had Blanc's to deal with?

Yet, at the sight of her in the entryway with a hand on her hip looking vexed like none other, Neptune had felt the most warmth she had in days. It meant more to her in that instant than ever before that someone wanted to see her, not because of any reason in particular, but _just because_. She found out swiftly that Noire had not come to pressure her for answers or details, which had been her fear from the beginning. She had come for the sake of visiting a friend.

They had not done anything together, alone in Neptune's room. Only played games and whittled away the time, like true friends would. And it had reminded her of something she had forgotten, a wordless exchange pushed out of her memory by a storm of self-loathing: the day the Film Club met for the last time, when Noire had locked eyes with Neptune. They had, for a fleeting moment, been on the same frequency. Tacit understanding. As if in that moment, Noire had been saying, _"I know."_

Neptune turned her phone in her hands. About twenty minutes had gone by since she had called Noire. Genuine worry had been in her friend's voice, as well as the customary annoyance. After listening to Neptune's flimsy explanation and getting the street name, Noire had hung up with a brief, _I'll be there soon._

It was selfish, but Neptune felt _excited_ to see her again. She was wasting Noire's time by making her come all the way out here, and yet no amount of guilt could stamp out her joy. That Noire would do this for her in the first place lit a warm match in her chest.

Like the evening chill, time's slow progress settled over her as if she could see the hands of the clock, their halting stop and go. She glanced at her home screen; not long had actually passed compared to how rooted she felt to her seat. A few games were downloaded on her device, but she was in no mood to play a game, too lazy to stretch her fingers for any of the colorful apps on the screen. So she checked her messages for the hundredth time, knowing precisely what she would find there. A few worried texts from her sister. A few from her friends and her sister's friends asking her what she was doing this weekend. And a whole list of them from Blanc...

Her thumb paused over Blanc's name in the list. If she tapped it, she could read each and every one again. They were practically the five stages of grief in an IM medium, all culminating in a two-second voice message. Neptune had played the clip no less than a dozen times, trying hopelessly to find some meaning in those two seconds. Blanc had clearly been trying to say _something_ , but she had not gotten past the first strangled syllable. Her courage must have failed her, as otherwise there would have been a second, maybe more successful attempt.

The thought made Neptune's heart twinge. If only Blanc had just said something, anything, it would have been grounds enough to forgive her as far as Neptune was concerned, though there was always the unthinkable possibility that she would hear the words she did not want to hear.

"I have half a mind to turn you in for leaving the grounds during the week, even if the week is technically over. I _do_ have a heart made out of ice, if you didn't know."

That voice—sharp as a switchblade. Neptune's phone slipped from her fingers, and she stood up, pushing her chair back. Irritated frown and hand on her hip, there stood Noire.

For a single, insane second, Neptune wanted to hug her.

She quelled the whim and laughed, surprising herself, "I bet there's a cute framed photo of us two in that snowed-over heart of yours."

"Wow, gee, I was _just_ thinking about how annoying you are, making me come all the way out here to pick up a lost child." Her flat voice told Neptune more than she needed to know. "Let's go back." Already turned away, Noire glanced over her shoulder and waited. For now dismissing Blanc from her mind, Neptune turned off her phone and shoved it deep into her pocket.

As she fell into step behind her friend, Neptune realized she did not want to walk away from the café without ordering anything. To do so after such a kind reception felt like ingratitude, alongside being a rare visitor from the academy. She chanced a look over her shoulder, about to open her mouth and tell Noire she wanted to stay and grab a drink. The waitress from before was now standing by her table and watching her go.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and the waitress gave her a wave and a friendly smile. Neptune returned both.

Simple as it was, the gesture did away with her reluctance. As if a weight had been lifted from her chest, Neptune put her eyes front and felt a smile coming on naturally. She took a few steps forward to walk side by side with her friend.

"Hey Noire. Let's come back here sometime, okay?"

 _ **Just Another Love Story**_

A plastic bag stuffed with snack food swaying at her side, Noire climbed the stairs up to the second floor, disregarding the attention she got from the scattered cliques of students loitering in the halls. Painful as it was to admit, she had earned somewhat of a notorious title among the student body, especially the first years. In a competitive streak with Vert during their first year at the academy, she had campaigned for the student council, specifically for the role of ASB president—and lost.

On the bright side, finishing in second place secured her spot on the council as vice president. Unable to decline the position, she had eventually taken to her newfound authority with the zeal of a taskmaster. A little too much zeal, to be exact. Trying to totally reform the school in a matter of days, in a manner of speaking, was no small feat, and one in which Noire had been forced to admit defeat. Rumors of her unpopular policies dissociated through the student body like salt in water. Maybe enlisting Plutia as the chair member of the new disciplinary committee had been a bad idea.

But their looks had never bothered her. Students would be students, and their impressions of her were worth no more than a cent each. What mattered to them did not matter to her; she had other things to do than worry twenty-four seven about her reputation.

Having committed Neptune's room number to memory, she found her destined dorm easily; it was, after all, only fourteen doors away from her own. Just as she had requested before she left, the entrance had been left unlocked for her.

When the door was shut and locked, she became aware of a low noise in the room. Sound effects and the occasional roar that belonged in a video game. Stepping farther into the room, she saw Neptune sitting on the bed with the lights dimmed, blankets piled up around her like a ring of mountains enclosing a valley.

"Welcome back Noire," Neptune said without taking her eyes off the game. Her character unleashed a series of sword slashes at an enormous red-and-white dragon taking up over half the screen. "Did you lock the door?"

Noire checked to make sure she had indeed turned the lock and, not wanting to break her friend's concentration, refrained from walking across the room to reach her desk. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the bed and started sorting through the snacks she had bought right there.

At the corner store, she had let herself go and grabbed some of her own favorites. Since she was shopping for two people, why not pick up some junk food for a change, was what she had reasoned. Though most of the selection had been standard convenience-store fare, rumors circulated that a certain type of dessert had been added to the store to commemorate, and accommodate, the CPU of Planeptune. They had proved to be true.

"Oh, yeah... I found this at the store and thought you might like it." Noire pulled out a packaged cup of flan and held it out for Neptune to see. "I'll just put it in your minifridge... unless you want it now?"

Neptune shook her head softly. "Nah, I'll have it later. Can you?"

At the base of the television set was a short steel minifridge that went up to Noire's waist which held the staple foods for any average college student: grab-and-go snacks, soda cans, and juice boxes.

"Why don't you have any fruit in here or something?" Noire grumbled as she pushed a few cans to the side. "And can't you at _least_ keep your soda and juice separated?"

Noire heard her humming, thinking, and could practically imagine her shoulders lift in a careless shrug. "It doesn't bother me, but you can reorganize it if you really want," she heard after some time and sighed. Knowing Neptune, the fridge would be back to the way it was now after a day anyway. She closed the fridge and stood up, straightening her back and feeling her joints shift pleasingly with a series of cracks. When she turned around, she was surprised to find Neptune eying her warily.

Seeing that the boss fight was over, a serene view of an island unfurled with the saurian monster's defeat, Noire crossed the room to grab her book lying on the desk. She had left it here since she was in the habit of visiting Neptune daily. Neptune had not commented on it, but she had probably taken a peek at the back cover out of curiosity.

"What's that book about?" she asked now, finally removing her eyes from the screen.

"Hm... A little bit of everything. Historical fiction, murder mystery. It's pretty interesting so far."

The heroine of the novel, a stage illusionist with as many secrets as tricks, found herself the center of unwanted attention after the death of a man in her same line of work. She was used to being the star of the show, the spotlight, the crowd pleaser, but too much close scrutiny shook the very foundations of the world she had sculpted for herself, making wobble the house of cards she had dedicated her life to.

"Only the detective and his partner can get involved," Noire explained the nature of the investigation. "Otherwise, people would discover the tricks behind her act and stop believing what they see." Always, the illusionist pushed aside her personal life before stepping onto the stage, else the illusion be broken. Even her real name, she exchanged for a pseudonym.

"Is that why she never goes by her real name?" asked Neptune. "To keep people suspended in disbelief, 'cause they'll never know who she actually is?"

Noire nodded a few times, having never thought of it that way. Neptune was sharper than she let on.

The two lapsed into quiet. Neptune played for a little while longer before returning the controller to its spot under the TV and turning off the flat screen. Noire felt the bed shift when Neptune sat down and burrowed into the blankets again. The bag of snacks rustled as a hand sorted through it.

Noire watched as Neptune picked out a box of chocolate biscuits from the bag. "I thought you were going to eat that pudding?" she asked curiously. Neptune hesitated, her fingernail already wedged partway under the top fold.

"Eh, I'm... not in the mood right now." A puff of air like a sigh trailed her words, as if she had taken too deep a breath but spoken too fast and the excess just spilled out.

"Not in the mood? That's a first," Noire lifted an eyebrow and went back to her book. Those words almost worried her, uncharacteristic as they were, but at this point she was willing to take the anomaly at face value. The list of facts she knew about Neptune grew by the day, so it was no use getting hung up over every little thing.

Noire kept reading, a page away from the end of a chapter, and could not help but wonder if the hero, a detective agent investigating the murder with the illusionist's help, cared about the heroine in more ways than one. The lengths to which he went to ensure her safety went beyond her value as a case witness. Even though they were only together because of the case investigation, he treated her like a family member.

 _I wonder if he even realizes he likes her,_ she mused as she closed the book and got up to put it back on her desk. One chapter was enough for today—not like her reading focus had been doing very well recently anyway. "Neptune, you mind if I play a game?" she asked, her eyes on the controller by the base of the television stand.

Neptune looked up, shook her head and said, "Nah, go ahead. I'm just looking to see if I missed anything important in the last area." Nodding, Noire went to the TV set and ran her fingers slowly over the spines of Neptune's game library. There was quite the selection, and she was pleased to find a number of games developed by Lastation.

Beyond the window, the blue of the sky started to fade as the sun breached the horizon. The jingle of the evening bell scared away a flock of birds alighted on the grass in front of the academy. By neither of their standards was it late, but normally it was around this time that Noire returned to her room. However, she could make an exception today. There were no classes tomorrow, and she was hardly so swamped in work that she had little time to waste.

But right on cue, Neptune motioned at the clock. "Aren't you going back soon though? It's already almost time."

Noire shrugged, sitting up on the bed with the controller in her lap. She could hear the hesitation in Neptune's voice, as if the girl were loath to remind her. But her words asked, with some rhetorical sarcasm still, "Do you want me to leave? If you want some time alone, you just have to say."

"No! No, that's not what I meant," Neptune shook her head without meeting Noire's eyes. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and she tugged on her ear lobe. "It's not that I want you to leave or something like that, okay? I was just asking, just 'cause you usually... go around this time..."

Noire coughed and interrupted her, feeling a bit of guilt for insinuating. But at the same time, she wished she had a camera to snap a picture of Neptune's adorable sulking face right now. "I'll stick around a while longer and keep you company, then."

The two of them settled down, and once again their eyes went back to their devices. On the big screen, carved bronze letters spelled out the name of the game, and Noire nodded when she noticed the familiar motif of a monster's eye with a slit pupil replacing one of the letters in the title. Rather than continue from Neptune's save file where a few hours were logged already, she started a new game.

"I haven't had the time to play this one yet, so I'm going to start with a clean save till I get the hang of it." Neptune nodded, eyes glued to her phone screen. When Noire began to personalize her avatar, however, the bed moved as Neptune leaned over to put her phone on the desk. "Done looking at the walkthrough?" she asked with a glance at her friend, who was now watching the screen with mild interest. Neptune nodded and made herself comfortable next to Noire.

Creating a character was expectedly uneventful, but Noire finished the customization in less than two minutes and skipped the opening cutscenes to get straight to the game. She walked around to talk to the locals and get used to what would become home base for her monster-slaying expeditions. A virtual sun crawled slowly across the sky.

In the real world, what had been bright sunbeams was now a dusty evening glow, coloring the bedroom with sunset hues of orange and red. The room lights off, darkness bided its time in the farthest corners of the ceiling.

"It's going to be dark soon," Noire thought aloud, yet she made no move to do anything about it. Some light still remained in the day, and the gradual change of colors at sundown put her at ease regardless. Dusk's tempered shades reminded her of Lastation, where the setting sun drew the entire city in silhouettes and ushered the orb lamps dotting the street to gutter on.

Noire nudged the control stick lazily, still stuck in conversation with the hunter's guild girl. Between her life in Lastation and her time spent here, it should have been an obvious choice which one she rathered. But one thing stopped her from wishing she were at home.

Before she could accept one of the few requests being offered to her, Neptune sidled closer and touched her shoulder. Very little space left between them, Noire's breath caught and she had to resist the impulse to jerk away. "Neptune?"

"Noire, I want to thank you," she said, tone low, "For keeping me company all this week, even though I've been acting out of it." Neptune moved an inch closer yet.

Unused to this level of honesty, Noire stopped caring about the game altogether. Her eyes found a point on the wall above the TV screen to study. "You don't have to thank me for it," she mumbled and under her breath added, "That's what friends are for."

To her delight, Neptune nodded. "But I'm not just thanking you for that..." Her words came to a complete stop, and she laid her head on Noire's shoulder. "Um. Sorry, I'm pretty bad at this whole heart-to-heart thing. Aha ha ha..."

That uncharacteristic, nerve-wracked attempt at laughter was what tipped Neptune's hand. Noire could literally _hear_ her hiding something. She leaned away and ducked her head, trying to get a better look at her friend's face. But a ball of purple fuzz moved with her, obscuring her vision. "Hey, what are you do... ing... Wait, Neptune, you're—"

"D-don't move around so much!"

Hiding her face in the hollow of Noire's shoulder, Neptune clung to her closely like a child. However, even in the dim lighting Noire had only needed to look at her for a second. Eyes watering, lips drawn tight, dark crimson dyed across her cheeks. That fleeting image of her closest friend which was impossible to unsee.

Noire heard Neptune's name in her own voice before she could think of anything proper to say. Neptune was the only person she ever let her guard down in front of. There was just no need to have reservations around someone so easygoing and friendly. It hardly mattered if her mood was happy or sad, because she could let it all out in Neptune's company. But in this moment, she felt that their roles had reversed, and now she was the one getting to see a different side of her friend she never knew existed.

Neptune lifted her head and breathed in calmly, her chin down to her chest as she collected herself to go on.

"The other day, when we had the last meeting," she stated, and Noire nodded once. She remembered. "You asked me on your way out if I was okay, and that"—Neptune's voice shrank and she swallowed, wetting her lips and starting over—"you asked me if I was okay, and that really meant a lot to me. When you said it, it just made me feel so... so appreciated."

Neptune's composure started to crack by the second. Noire could hear, _feel_ the emotion pouring off her friend's words, and her own throat was growing tight.

"And then, erm... this week, you know?" Neptune continued in a small voice. "It makes me ha-... hap-... really happy that you came to see me. Th-that day, when I said you were sweet, I wasn't—I mean I was... Agh, what the heck!"

Neptune suddenly gave up, moaning and cradling her head in both hands. "Why am I like this?" Frustrated, she turned away and hit her own thigh as if it would help. "What's wrong with me? I can't say anything without sounding like I'm crying!"

Noire wanted to say something to calm her down, but no matter how hard she tried to come up with the words, the only thing she could think of doing was giving Neptune a big hug then and there. Her friend was so sincere, so adorable, she almost could not help herself.

Finally, she figured out what she wanted to say. "Neptune, I—huh?"

As soon as she had opened her mouth, something had touched her cheek, warm and slightly wet, like a fine point brush had just dabbed some paint on her face. "Wh... wha..." Noire unfroze just enough to turn and look at Neptune, who had pulled back but was still facing her, redder than before. _Oh my god,_ she freaked out, her head going white at the realization. _Oh my god she kissed me!_

Noire felt dizzy all of a sudden, and she had barely gotten out the words, "I need to lie down," before her back hit the mattress. Her head rushed, trying and failing to process what had just happened. This had to be some sort of mistake. What was happening? Why? How?

Neptune was hovering above her, lips moving in speech, but Noire could hardly hear a thing over the noise of her own heart beating like a taiko drum. Something was dripping on her face and neck. She heard Neptune calling her name, then the words "I'm sorry—"

Noire sat up, head still spinning, and Neptune scooted away hastily to give her room. "No, I'm sorry," she muttered, hating the tears making trails down her friend's face. "I'm just... so startled... Neptune, d-do... do you like me? Like, _like_ me?" She was still in disbelief. The real reason she asked was not to know but because she needed a single truth, at least one concrete fact to keep herself grounded and her thoughts based in fact. Whether that truth was yes or no, either was better than building conjecture upon muddled conjecture. Still, it would have been a thousand times better for her heart if Neptune had just laughed and said _"Nope, just kidding!"_

But Neptune wiped her eyes and said nothing.

 _This can't be happening._ Her pulse roared in her ears. Not in a lifetime. Not in an eternity. Her best friend just _confessed_ to her. The _only person_ she spent time with outside of school and work was in love with her.

Noire argued, grasping at straws, "We're both girls." Obviously aware, Neptune looked away stubbornly.

"I know that. But it's not like I can help it."

Noire treasured their relationship. It was something special to her, and she had always gotten the impression that Neptune thought the same. But now things were changing, and this new perspective made her think back in retrospect—had they really been seeing eye to eye all this time, or had one of them been seeing something more than the other?

Noire had always known Neptune was cute, and likely vice versa. There was no denying it, for they both had their shares of admirers, but just because she acknowledged the fact did not mean she was interested. Sure, they were both attractive people, but that hardly meant they had to be attracted to each other.

The idea of getting involved with Neptune did not bother her per se; more so it was the conflict of emotion with reason. In no way was she averse to love between girls, but her practical mind demanded that she assess every possible repercussion of entering a romantic relationship with Neptune. Noire hated to treat a confession like a business proposition, yet her mind was simply wired that way. Logic dictated that she reject Neptune's advances, if only because it would complicate their relationship—not as lovers, but as authority figures of two independent nations.

 _And yet..._

She had always dreamed of living a full life—one not tied down by her inalienable mantle and responsibilities, but one in which someone else did that work for her. If she could abdicate her position as Lastation's dutiful to another, so many things would open up for her. A new place to live, a new job. More time for her hobbies. Room for a lover in her life. Gamicademi had let her live that dream, even if it was only temporary.

No matter how much thought she gave it, she came back to the same absolute truth: Neptune's confession was the best thing to ever happen to her.

The window had been left slightly open. Neptune's purple bangs hung over her eyes and swayed gently in the dying breeze. She looked nothing like her usual self, framed in fading daylight. Nothing like the eternally energetic goddess that everyone thought they knew. Noire leaned back on her hands and watched the curtains ripple.

"Neptune," she began, seeing in her peripheral vision Neptune's head snap up. "You're serious about this, huh?" Noire saw her nod but still had to ask again. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really, I am!" Neptune asserted, raising her voice. "You care about me. That's... that's enough for me. You've always treated me like I was important to you. No matter what," she finished softly.

The fragrance of lingering shampoo on the air. The memory of Neptune's body against hers, of feathery lilac hair brushing against her cheek. Every detail stuck fast in her mind like darts in a throwing board. A wave of longing washed over her all of a sudden. However much time they had left at Gamicademi, she wanted to spend the rest of it like this, with Neptune.

 _Know what? I'm not spoken for_. If her best friend had fallen for her, then so be it. She had nothing to complain about.

Noire took Neptune's hand and held it in both her own until her fist softened. "I'm your friend no matter what happens," she said, softly twining their fingers together. "I know we don't always get along, but that's normal. If it's what you want, then we can be more than friends."

The words echoed in her head. _More than friends._ That was what they were now. After she had said it, she knew their relationship would never be the same. It scared her just a bit. _What kind of things will we be doing from now on?_

But then Neptune smiled, her eyes wide with surprise and relief. Her fingers squeezed Noire's for a second before she pulled away and got up on her knees to put her arms around Noire's neck.

"Thank you Noire," Neptune whispered near her ear, her heartbeat felt by the both of them. Noire might have been imagining things, but after a few seconds it seemed like their hearts had adjusted to beat in sync.

A sniffle broke the silence, and Noire smiled. Arms wrapped snugly around Neptune, she exhaled and closed her eyes, embracing her friend and newfound lover. "Yeesh, you crybaby. Go wipe your nose, or I won't let you near me anymore."


	8. Interlewd

"Hey Noire, do you... uh... Are you..."—Neptune took her head off Noire's shoulder and glanced away in search of the word—"Second base?"

"S-second... Eh?!" An unwelcome image of the two of them doing _very_ questionable things formed in Noire's mind, and embarrassment lit up her face. She shook her head violently, expelling the image from her mind's eye, forgetting that Neptune was watching and waiting for an answer. "W-wait, that's not what I meant," she stammered and grabbed Neptune's hand upon seeing her try to scoot away, mortified.

"I—I wasn't trying to imply anything. I just wanted to know, that's all." Neptune turned away from her to cough but never turned back around. "Your thoughts on it, I mean. Really."

They sat in flustered silence for a while, still touching physically but mentally estranged. Noire swallowed a lump that had risen in her throat, painfully aware that the distance between Neptune and herself was shorter than it had ever been. They had been sitting cozily like this ever since Neptune had mustered the courage to tell her how she felt. Neither had said a word until now—although Neptune, with Noire's acquiescent consent, had exchanged with her a few shy kisses just to break in the novelty feeling of a relationship. The level of affection between them was already past pure and simple friendship. Just how far was Neptune willing to take it?

Noire glanced at the window, reminded suddenly of the oncoming night. The parted curtains had stopped swaying, there being no breeze to push them though the opening was left slightly ajar. From Neptune's vantage on the second floor, the outskirts of Gamicademi's urban zone were visible, far off the grounds, across the river that split the land mass in two. Its line of skyscrapers of fluctuating heights, backlit orange by the setting sun, was a more magnificent exhibit than any other in an art gallery. Fading daylight glinted off glass and steel, and dusty black clouds hung low in the sky, reflecting the sunset with their illuminated faces.

Though beautiful and impossibly picturesque, this warm view of the cityscape was nothing new to Noire. She saw the same thing on a daily basis back in Lastation, always after a long day of grinding out quests, enabling research, learning more industry, pushing more papers. Always, the sight invited a few hours of relaxation from work and all its tedium.

Yet tonight, even at this hour, she felt none of the usual languor. Instead, her senses were awake, acutely aware of the tiniest details: the way the last of the sunlight mingled with the tinted glow from the wall fixtures; the chill from the open window; and every little, insignificant thing about her partner beside her.

"You're fidgeting so much," she complained when Neptune's knee slid out from under hers. Noire looked her in the face. Her vision had adjusted, able to see in the dim lighting of dusk, and she could just make out the presence of color. Neptune mumbled an apology and sighed.

 _Second base..._ The words bounced around in her head like a pinball. Intimacy was almost unbearable now that _those_ kinds of thoughts had pervaded her mind. Now everything that happened between them seemed steeped in implication, as if Noire had only just started picking up on a trail of subtle hints Neptune had been leaving at every corner.

"But I'm not... against it..." She mouthed, trying to imagine how Neptune might respond: _You aren't? Oh, good. Then that means I can do... this... ..._

Noire cringed and blushed bright red at the fantasy, the likes of which were so unrealistic that they could never happen.

"Y-you're not? Oh, good." And then Neptune responded as if she had heard—no, she _had_ heard, because Noire had unwittingly said her thoughts aloud. "I was afraid that I was, y'know... pressuring you or something." But her voice was not laced with lewd suggestion like in Noire's head, only with plain and simple relief. Neptune laid her head on Noire's shoulder and let out a content sigh.

A stray purple hair brushed against Noire's cheek, and her chest went tauter than a bowstring. Were they actually about to do it? _It doesn't feel like it,_ she remarked to herself over the sound of her own beating heart. If the universal pre-sex mood was awkward, then they were on the right track. If not, then, well, it was their first time _._

"S-so..."  
"Right, yeah. Yeah."

The exchange left them both even more hesitant to meet the other's eyes. At this rate, the sun would be up before either could even call it all off, let alone make the first move.

And on that topic, there was the elephant in the room: _Who_ was to make the first move, the confessor or the confessed to? What was "proper" and what was natural started to get all jumbled up into a doughy mental ball of vague responsibilities.

 _I should do it,_ Noire decided. Neptune admired her, clearly, and had taken an incredible leap of faith in confessing. And now that it had come to this, Noire had to take the lead to let Neptune know that this relationship was consensual—mutual, even. Actions spoke louder than words; showing, rather than telling, was the best way to eliminate the self-doubt riding on Neptune's shoulders.

And so, she discarded all residual second thoughts. Noire placed both hands on Neptune's shoulders and gently turned her partner around until their bodies were square. Arms shaking, lips dry, eyes darting to and fro, face surely aflame— _Deep breath,_ she told herself, managing to somewhat calm her nerves. Out of embarrassment, she shut her eyes and blindly lunged forward, remembering at the very last second to pucker her lips.

Noire had never kissed anyone— _anyone_ —not even on the cheek. Her knowledge of it until this moment, sadly enough, was textbook. It felt foreign, yet altogether it was exciting. A strange warmth spread through her body, sending her head reeling and reaching into every fiber of her being. She felt Neptune's shoulders tense up and leaned deeper into the kiss, wanting more of that indescribable feeling, until their chests were almost touching.

Just as Neptune's hands found and encircled her waist, Noire reluctantly pulled away. For some reason, she had started feeling dizzy—from loss of air or from that intoxicating sensation, she didn't know. But the way Neptune swooned, eyes still closed as if she were unaware that the kiss was over, made Noire's heart hammer against her ribcage.

"Huh? You stopped," Neptune complained, worried and disappointed. Then that familiar, unwelcome guilt complex started to seep into her expression. "What's wrong?"

Noire shook her head quickly, searching her addled brain for something to say. Her capacity for forming sentences was beginning to fail. "Nothing's wrong. I... how long is a kiss supposed to be, I don't know."

"Uh... hm. I dunno either." Arms folded, Neptune put a hand on her reddened cheek in concentration. "Doesn't matter, does it? There's no rule. You can kiss for as long as you want. As long as you mean it, right?"

Noire thought about it for a moment. When she had kissed Neptune, conviction had been the only thing on her mind. There had been no room for anything else. _That means I meant it, right?_

"Huh," she finally said, nodding agreeably. "Yeah, that makes sense. I guess you're right."

The second kiss, though not as mindblowing as the first, still took her breath away. Neptune's lips softened and parted as if asking for more. The action was so deceptively simple that it may not have even been intentional, yet it made so much of a difference. It stirred up desires in Noire's head that she had not even known existed.

Before long, her tongue got involved as well. Whether it was Neptune or herself who had made the first provocation, she was not sure, but they were past the point of worrying about unimportant things like what was embarrassing and who was to be dominant. That kind of thinking only went in circles, Noire discovered, because when push came to shove, _both_ of them had to take initiative in some way or another.

She was discovering a new side of herself, among other things—that kisses could last much longer than one might expect, for example, and that they could get very competitive even if the kissers themselves were not usually, but above all, that they were absolutely addicting. All she could think of was Neptune, the petite girl exploring her mouth as if she were searching for every last secret there was to find.

Noire decided, in that moment, that Neptune seriously loved her, and that she might just seriously love the girl back.

Then it happened. A hand, _her hand_ , moving on its own, fingers going up the front of Neptune's shirt until—

"Wh-whoa!"

Hearing her own voice cry out in surprise, Noire wrenched herself out of her blissful state of mind and yanked her hand away. In doing so, she startled Neptune who—having been so hypnotized by the kiss—nearly toppled her over.

"H-hey! What gives, Noire?" Neptune caught her breath and partially sat up. "First you—"

"It was an accident, okay?!" Noire cut her off, frantic.

"—touch my boob, then _you_ get all embarrassed?" Neptune gave her a sideways look which quickly morphed into an amused grin. "Ah, come on... It's not like I'm going to get mad at you or anything."

Ashamed of her outburst, Noire put a hand over her heart and turned away to avoid looking Neptune in the eye. _See? She's cool with it. Just relax,_ she told herself. _Relax and go with the flow._

However, when she finally collected her nerves and looked back, Neptune's eyes were fixed on her in a way as if to say, _What are you waiting for?_

Noire swallowed and wet her lips, locked in a staring contest and afraid to break eye contact. She tried and failed to understand the situation in any different way. There was no other possible interpretation; she had already been given the clearance to take the next step into this uncharted world of physical contact.

Noire lowered her eyes, stopping right near the V-shaped opening of her purple linen blazer.

"Is it... okay?" she had to ask, despite her mind already made up, despite the preparedness in Neptune's face.

"W-well. Don't make it awkward..." Neptune glanced away, the moonlight glancing off her cheek. And though it might have been a little mean of her, Noire could not help but laugh. She would never get used to seeing Neptune like this.

Noire kissed her again, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible, though it did not take very long this time for Neptune to poke a tongue into her mouth.

When she felt that it was time, she placed her hand over Neptune's breast and applied the tiniest amount of pressure. There was not very much to grab, but if she dug her fingers in just a bit...

"Hh!" Neptune breathed in sharply and shuddered, a great tremor that traveled through her whole body. She seemed to freeze up for a few seconds like a stuttering machine with faulty gears.

Hearing Neptune's muffled voice at the push of a button brought out a sadistic twinge in her. Noire cupped her hand and squeezed again, and another noise—sounding more like a suppressed moan than before—came out. It was like she had her hand on a volume knob, tweaking the sound and pitch of Neptune's voice.

Emboldened, with her other hand she started to fiddle with the two brass buttons on Neptune's obstructive top. She undid one, then the other easily. But her fingers slowed clumsily on the second layer, a row of buttons keeping the flaps of Neptune's undershirt together.

"Whoa, g-gimme a second!" Neptune broke off the desperate liplock to look her partner in the eye. Her cheeks were glowing like coals, warmed by some inner feeling of passion. "Here... let me do it."

Turning away to hide her chest, Neptune began to undo the buttons starting from the top, struggling just as much at first as her partner had. After what seemed like five minutes of suspense, she unclasped the last three fastenings on her shirt and shrugged off both top layers. Noire saw her toss the articles of clothing at the bedpost, but her attention was riveted by the part of Neptune's chest covered by a gray, strapless—

"You wear a bandeau," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "That's so..."

"So what? I hate the straps that go over my shoulders! They're uncomfortable." Neptune rubbed her shoulders as if the ghost of her last undergarment still chafed.

Noire pushed out her bottom lip, trying her hardest not to stare, but it was almost impossible not to. Neptune wearing a "boob tube" was so unexpected, it almost put her at a loss for words.

"Don't you have to work extra hard to keep it in place?" she asked, wondering if it was even possible to keep such a thin, stretchy piece of material from slipping when there was not much _there_ to keep it in place. It just seemed impractical, like the ubiquitous-but-unrealistic breasted plate armor seen in so many fantasy role-playing games.

"Yeah, but... wait. Is that your way of pointing out that I'm flat?" Neptune reflexively looked down before lifting her head and making a sour face.

"Pff—hehe—Ha ha ha!" Noire did her best to keep it down, but eventually her laughter spilled over like frothy water from a bug of beer. Neptune's appearance right now was the strangest mix of exciting and hilarious. It was so like her to pick what she found the most comfortable, not even caring that she was wearing something so... adventurous.

Seeing that Neptune was starting to look miffed, she took a deep breath and stifled her giggling. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I know you probably weren't intending it and all, b-but... heh."

"Huh, it's a little chilly in here. Maybe I should put my shirt back on."

"Come on Neptune, I was just teasing! It looks good on you. I'm serious, you're..." A few words came to mind, all of them too embarrassing to actually say out loud. Rather than finish the sentence, Noire took her lover's head in her hands and drew their lips together for a short-lived kiss.

Once again, Neptune seemed to melt in her arms. That was when Noire reached around her side, pinched the top of her bra, and tugged it upward. Neptune raised her arms so that Noire could pull the thin gray cloth up over her head. But instead of discarding the article of clothing, Noire held it loosely around Neptune's wrists like a shackle and leaned forward to give her a kiss, finding it exhilarating to feel like she was in control.

Before Neptune started to complain about her arms getting tired, Noire finished the job. She threw away the undergarment, and at that moment it hit her that she had just stripped the top off her best friend. _I can't believe we're doing this,_ she began to panic, afraid to look anywhere below Neptune's face, her own burning with heat. _This is really happening._

As if Noire's thoughts had reached her on a wavelength, Neptune offered a modest smile. "Don't worry, you have to take yours off too, eventually. But for now"—she leaned forward, pressing their chests together—"touching is okay. Just don't pinch or anything, okay?"

Neptune concluded with a peck on her cheek, which was the final bit of encouragement Noire needed. However, not wanting to rush into it, the two shared another kiss. It was a mutual want, the desire for each other as well as the tacit agreement to take things slowly. They had all the privacy and time in the world.

While Neptune invaded her mouth, Noire peeked out with one eye, then the other. Neptune's eyes were blissfully shut. _Here's my chance._ Gathering her resolve, Noire brought a hand up, trying to emulate what she had done before. _Do I just... grab them?_

A huge shudder racked Neptune's body as soon as Noire's fingertips made contact with her skin. Her throat trembled, barely able to hold back her voice while a hand played with her breast.

Noire took some time to let herself get used to the motions and the smooth curve of Neptune's chest. She could feel everything without even needing to use her eyes: the size, the shape, the softness—even the sensitivity, which she could gauge by Neptune's reaction to her touch.

After she had played enough, Noire relented and began to unbutton her own uniform. "Neptune," she murmured, her hands working their way down her front. She was burning up inside, but somehow she managed not to show it.

When Neptune saw what she was doing, her eyes gleamed with excitement. The first layer came off, and Noire crossed her now sleeveless arms over her chest. Stripping in front of another person, no matter that it was Neptune, still made her feel immoral.

Once her shirt was off, the only thing covering her up was a plain piece of black negligee. "Oh geez," Neptune commented unhelpfully. "They're... large." Not wasting any time, she wrapped her arms around Noire in a pseudo-hug, fumbling with the back strap of her bra. "Hm. Er... Ugh, this is why I don't like wearing these things."

Neptune scooted around to the side and turned Noire's shoulders so that she could see what she was doing. Noire found it almost adorable, the way Neptune struggled to undress her. "What's taking so long?" she teased, glancing over her shoulder to see her friend's face steeped in concentration.

"Hold on, I'm trying to figure out how to take out this hook-looking part!"

Noire let out a patient sigh. But she felt gracious tonight, so she put her hands behind her back and deftly unclasped the strap keeping her bra secure. It followed after the rest of their clothes and tumbled to the carpeted floor, likely to stay there until morning. Even when the night breeze should have cooled her bare skin, her body was febrile and restless like a pot kept at a simmer. It almost felt like she was taking a hot shower.

 _Oh yeah, my hair._ Noire tilted her head and pulled one of her ribbons loose, then doing the same with the other. With a gentle shake of her head, her hair spilled down her back, all the way to her skirt. "There," she said, feeling much less exposed now that her hair was covering her back. "Do you ever take off that D-pad clip of yours?"

"Sure I do!" Neptune affirmed from behind her. "It gets in the way when I have to wash my hair."

Neptune's chin came to rest on her shoulder, and two arms fell around her neck. Their faces were so close together, Noire could just tip her head back to meet Neptune in a sideways kiss. It was an uncomfortable way to make out, really—there was purple hair in her eyes, and her neck was complaining—but it made her lightheaded nonetheless.

The measured _tick-tock tick-tock_ of the clock hanging on the opposite wall faded into unimportance. The two embraced, unhurried, slowly building up to a vague idea of an end.

"Let's try something," Noire murmured in Neptune's ear after the last of their clothes had come off. She gathered the girl's thin frame in her arms, lying in the most intimate position either of them could handle. Neptune fidgeted for a few seconds before huddling up to Noire and easing her body.

"Okay," she whispered back, her voice laced with nerves. "All yours."

Noire had, at first, accepted Neptune's confession under the impression that this whole situation might drag on for a few months, probably no more than a year, and end along with their homestay at Gamicademi. There was no way she could fathom for this to go on any longer; it just seemed impossible, with all the things they had to do. Yet every time they touched, they kissed, they shared a look, the more she thought that this could be permanent. That they could make this work, that this was real and not just a lurid daydream. The longer this went on, the more she yearned for Neptune to be her lover beyond their pretend school days so that they could live out an eternity with each other to come back to at nights.

In the afterglow of her climax, Neptune's breathing slowed to a sleeper's pace, hot on Noire's skin like heat off a campfire. Noire almost thought that she had fallen asleep, until she rolled over and hid her face in Noire's shoulder, giving her a faceful of vanilla-scented hair.

"Thanks Noire," she mumbled, echoing the same words she had spoken earlier. "I really... really mean it." Then the girl yawned softly and went quiet, still snuggled up next to her. Noire put a hand behind her back in a half embrace and cradled her head with the other.

Her head was overrun, unable to process everything that had just happened. Anything not related to Neptune had been shoved out of her mind. All she wanted to focus on was in front of her right now. The sensation of another warm body next to hers. The steady breathing. The curled fingers brushing against her skin. She wanted to wish away all of her responsibilities and lie here all day and all night. She wanted to talk about so many things with the person sleeping next to her—her life, her work, the silly dreams she had when no one was looking.

So this was how it felt, she reflected as she stared at the ceiling, to love someone. She turned the feeling over in her mind. To be needy but also needed; to be dependent but also dependable. It was a nice feeling. Someone needed her, and at the same time, that someone was there for her.

Closing her eyes, she awaited sleep with the possibility that she was in love ringing in her head.


	9. See You Tomorrow

Unease gripped Blanc's heart as she hesitated in front of Room 960. A beige beechwood door stood before her as the gatekeeper, its light wooden face betraying nothing of what she was to face in the near future. Three minutes out from her own room, number 889, she felt like a hobbit standing at the base of the mountain of doom.

At evening times, the highly modernized hallways of the academy building tended to shine. The glass along the entirety of the south- and west-facing walls bore view to a beautiful orange sunset, captivating any students returning to their dorms at this hour. Neptune's room was one of the many located along the western edge of the housing floor, meaning she got the best of sunup and sundown: brilliant beams in the morning and muted rays just before nightfall.

The only reason she even knew Neptune's room number was because she had learned it only two days ago from Plutia, who had been present during her argument with Uni. In exchange, Blanc had explained the situation involving herself, Neptune, and the Film Club. Only as much as she was willing to share, of course, but Plutia was about as scheming as a shampuru—not very much, really.

 _"So you're just trying to apologize to Neppy? But she's trying to avoid you, right?"_ Plutia had asked in confirmation, holding her braid over her heart. _"Wow... I didn't know Neppy could stay mad at anyone. Not for more than a day..."_

After that depressing reminder of just how astoundingly Blanc had messed up, the sleepy senior had wished her good luck and left in her usual charm, a lazy gait that begged the question of how she managed to get anywhere without falling asleep mid-stride.

Blanc sighed. Thoughts of failure and fear were starting to grow in her mind. Despite having finally galvanized herself into approaching Neptune's room, her resolve was beginning to waver. What if Neptune knew it was her and refused to open the door? Was she even home? What if she was on her way here at this very moment, and any second now she was going to walk into the hallway and see Blanc standing outside her room?

Before she lost her nerve, Blanc got a grip on herself and shook her head violently. _No,_ she upbraided herself, ignoring the so-called "possibilities" pervading her head. _I can't think about any of that._ Better to suck in her gut and do what she came here to do than hesitate for nothing. In that moment of bravado, she found the nerve in her to lift her arm and rap her knuckles three times on the door.

"Neptune. It's me, Blanc," she announced in a clear and level voice. "Can you please open the door?"

Blanc held her breath and listened, hoping to hear some sign that her friend was in fact within. Nothing yet. Worried that her voice might not have penetrated through the door, she had to resist the urge to repeat herself. The last thing she wanted was to sound too desperate, and talking into the keyhole was not likely to make a difference anyway.

She exhaled slowly and tried to calm down with a bit of on-the-spot meditation. Her heartbeat had sped up from a walk to a trot, and embarrassingly she felt a bit dizzy. Her emotions were already an indecipherable mess, and the door had not even opened yet.

Taking another look down the hallway to see if anyone was coming toward her, Blanc went over the plan in her head for the twentieth time. For almost two weeks now, she had reflected over what her argument with Neptune had really been about. She understood enough to know that she had a lot to say sorry for.

The end of the month was approaching fast. The longer she took to make up with Neptune, the harder it would be to patch up the holes in their relationship. Eventually, things would reach a point where making amends was no longer possible. Trying to resolve it in conversation would only result in a shrug of the shoulders and an "Oh, it's fine" when it really wasn't fine.

Simply put, unless she was able to make it up to Neptune, Neptune would give up on forgiving her; she was hardly the type to dither about something forever. They might still consider each other friends, but that friendship would be on icy ground at best. There was no way Blanc could live with that ending. In spite of the way she acted, she really did try her best to be considerate. Her ties with Neptune were something she never wanted to lose. They were, or at least had been until recently, extremely close friends—for Blanc, closer than anyone else.

Blanc felt her throat tighten. She could still remember Neptune's face from that day: the pained look in those normally bright purple eyes followed by that frustrated, unsympathetic glare. She had never thought she would experience something colder than a winter night in Lowee.

While she fought to keep her eyes dry, she heard the lock unlatch behind her. She turned around just in time for the door to open, and some of the air was forced out of her lungs at what she saw. So much time had passed since she had last seen Neptune— _days_ —and for a moment she was not sure how to react. Joy and anxiety traded places in her chest so many times that they started to feel like the same thing.

"Nep... tune..." Anxiety scored a point, and her voice cracked like a broken mirror at the sight of Neptune's bedhead and cheerless smile.

"Hi, Blanc..." Neptune greeted her uneasily. She went quiet as if there was nothing else to say. "Uh… how'd you find my room?"

Blanc tried to speak around the lump in her throat and managed to mumble something about getting the number from Plutia. "I... feel really bad, okay?" she said, afraid to lose Neptune's interest if she stopped talking. "I didn't think about your feelings. I let the movie get in the way of our friendship, and I wanted to make it good so badly that I just... forgot. I was being an idiot. I shouldn't have said any of the things I said back in that classroom. I'm sorry, Neptune."

Neptune listened to her entire spiel without a word. Her hand had slipped off the side of the door, and her head was hung so that Blanc could not see her eyes underneath her bangs.

Blanc bowed her own head in apology. Not even half of the things she had wanted to say had been said; they had all been forgotten after the first stammered sentence.

 _I can barely look at her._ Blanc rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. _Why do I feel so ashamed?_

"Blanc." Neptune said after a few seconds. She lifted her eyes, and for a second Blanc remembered a sad movie. "Thanks for coming to tell me. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I… I needed some time to think. But I'm over it now"—she smiled and then looked down—"so don't kick yourself for it. You get really—mm... really devoted about your work sometimes. It happens, I don't blame you."

Like a ray of sun on a cloudy day, the hope Blanc had for resolution faded. Neptune's voice sounded so strained. The smile she put on looked so false. Blanc had been around Neptune longer than she could remember; her lifetime friend's smile right now was like a flicker compared to her usual radiance—unrecognizable. The spark was just missing.

Left without a proper response, Blanc stared at her, looking for the one thing she could say that would fix everything. But she never found it.

Defeated, she dropped her eyes. Neptune's smile, too, fell as if she knew Blanc could tell that it was just a travesty. All pretenses of being "over it" were gone. Something was still keeping her from being able to go back to the way things were with Blanc, like a giant invisible wall—impossible to see, to climb, to walk around.

A literal shadow fell across Neptune's face, from the sun falling perfectly into place behind a support beam.

Suddenly afraid of the silence that continued to grow, Blanc opened her mouth to break it without thinking. "W-when we were filming, your acting was really good. I just wanted to tell you that, it felt really… really… er, real."

Neptune looked up when Blanc started talking, but by the time the brunette had finished running her mouth, she had already looked away again.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. I was just doing my best, as always."

Blanc mentally slapped herself for saying anything. _What am I thinking?_ Bringing it up like that without any tact whatsoever was a surefire way to make things awkward. _Great._

"I mean..." She faltered, searching for a way to salvage the conversation. "What do I mean, it's like..."

"Blanc, it's alright. You don't need to keep apologizing or anything, but can we talk later? It's getting kind of late." Neptune glanced over her shoulder. "Everyone should be going back to their rooms now. Don't worry about it, okay?" Blanc wanted to say she was already worried, but she gave up and nodded dumbly. "Alright. I'll… see you after class tomorrow."

Neptune said goodbye with her eyes and shut the door. Blanc heard the click of a latch. And just like that, she was locked out of Neptune's life.

 _After class tomorrow._ The words reverberated in her head but meant nothing. Unless Neptune was planning to reinstate the Film Club, their paths never normally crossed. Maybe they would bump into each other somewhere in the school building, but there was no chance they would be able to talk about this when they passed each other in the hallway.

It suddenly hit her that she might have already missed her chance to make their friendship whole again—that it was too late, that she might never be as good a friend with Neptune as she had been before.

And the thought crushed her. She thought she was mentally strong, but she was wrong. Now that the things she had taken for granted had been taken away from her, she realized how much she relied on them, depended on them, missed them.

Neptune, and her silly, stupid, answer-to-everything smile; her excessive physical contact, even when it was a hot and sticky summer day; her goofy jokes, her way of speech; her habit of slipping into video-games-and-anime mode at random.

Somehow, the thought of not being friends with a girl like that—the thought that she was going to miss out on all of that from now on—it was depressing like none other.

Blanc clenched her fists and brought a hand up as if she were about to break down Neptune's door with a single swing. But instead, her arm trembled and fell softly against the wood, the only force she could muster being to drag a single, broken sob from her throat.

 _I did it. I apologized to her._ This should have been the part when everything was made right. This should have been the end of all. The final destination. She had banked _everything_ on this moment, but not one thing had changed. _I apologized to her…_

The problem was still unsolved, like a jigsaw puzzle missing a tiny piece in the upper corner. The whole picture was there, but it was like part of the sky was missing. Just one piece, a single color, inessential to see the painting but vital to finishing the puzzle.

Blanc's arm dropped to her side, and her head smacked against the wooden door. Whether or not Neptune heard it, she did not care. Deep down, she wanted Neptune to notice that tiny _thunk_ and come back. But in reality, there was nothing Blanc could say to her that would matter.

 _"Did you hear that?"_

She froze, able to hear something behind the door. It was not Neptune's voice; the voice was still definitively feminine, but it was much too low to be hers.

Someone else was in there. Another person, listening to their entire conversation. How much had they heard?

 _"Hear what?"_

 _"I think she's still there. You should—"_

Blanc did not wait to see if someone actually got up to check on the door. She could not bear to face Neptune again so soon, especially not when someone else was right around the corner. Taking one last look at the number 960 written over the door, she hurried away without looking back.

Her footsteps resounded in the corridor, almost as heavy as the worries on her mind. She kept walking, her brain awhirl with words. Neptune's, her own, it didn't matter. Everything melted together.

Blanc reached the end of the hall, nearly colliding with a group of girls rounding the corner. As she resigned herself to the three-minute walk back to her room, she recalled something Uni had said to her two days ago. It had been so cryptic then, but now she understood what it meant after hearing that voice in Neptune's room. But she was too out of strength to care.

Drained of the energy to even pick up her feet, she trudged back to her room with the setting sun shining on her back. Each step seemed to take her farther away from the waking world. The hallway grew dimmer, darker, until the numbers on the doors she passed were no longer readable and she was totally eclipsed in gloom.

 _ **Just Another Love Story**_

Neptune's arms were trembling as she closed the door. Her conversation with Blanc had lasted for less than two minutes, yet she had never felt so much anxiety all at once. As guilty as she felt for closing the door on her friend, she was too afraid to ever open it again. Her hands, her head, her heart, everything was shaking. Even making eye contact made her feel like she had been stabbed in the chest. But the sensation only grew more intense now that Blanc was gone.

Why that was, it was anyone's guess, because Neptune definitely wanted to know. Sure, she had been _beyond_ frustrated by Blanc's insensitivity, yet it had never been her intention to prolong the issue for this long. Perhaps she still unknowingly resented Blanc for that day. But for what: the thing they had nearly done, or the things they had argued about afterwards?

If Tamsoft had not abandoned the recording, and she and Blanc had actually gone through with the scene, would things be any different, for better or worse? Would she be feeling this way, this feeling that felt like a sharp, tiny fang burrowed deep in her chest?

For a single insane moment, Neptune wished that Blanc would just disappear like a drop of water in a pond. If only the world was just her and Noire and everyone else besides just one person. But she instantly wished she could take back the thought. Even if it was a morbid solution to her own problems, it was such a selfish thing to think about that she felt as if she were the lowest of the low. She felt like the victim of an abusive relationship, kindling a perverse affection for the person who had caused her so much pain in the first place.

 _No, that's a terrible way to think about it!_ She smacked herself in the cheek lightly, mentally apologizing to her close friend. Blanc was less the antagonist than were her own misguided emotions. Her mind had already found Blanc not guilty; her heart, apparently, was not in agreement.

Neptune put a hand over her chest and rubbed the spot, trying vainly to assuage the heartache that haunted her. Ever since she had stopped talking to Blanc, she had been unable to function like normal. She would remember something at a moment's notice, and suddenly her entire body would freeze up. It became impossible no matter what she was doing to avoid imagining Blanc doing the same. It became impossible to avoid seeing everywhere the same shade of brown that was in Blanc's hair, the same shade of blue that was in her eyes. Even when Neptune closed her eyes and laid in bed, knees to her chest, she could only wonder if her friend was feeling the same hurt.

She dug her fingernails into her palm, trying to unscrew her tightened throat. No matter how badly she wanted to move on, Blanc had showed up at her door with that apologetic look that had made Neptune recall the day they tried to record that stupid scene and how their faces had been so close together. Made her recall the argument afterwards and how they had kept talking over the other, and how the words had built up in her throat like an old rubber band stretching until it inevitably snapped.

Right as she thought she would lose control, a hand touched her on the shoulder. A soulful warmth spread through her body like ivy from the point of contact. Her muscles, which had gotten so tense without her knowing, finally relaxed.

Noire had been her one saving grace. Over the last week, she had helped relieve some of the thoughts that stopped Neptune from sleeping soundly at night. In fact, the tacit promise of Noire coming to her room every day was the thing that had kept her going. Amidst all this confusion, she had been dependable and immutable: She was just Noire—tall, soft, warm, and with a heart like a frozen prickly pear.

Then the steadying hand on her shoulder vanished. "Did you hear that?" Noire asked her quietly.

Neptune swallowed and wet her lips. More like, did she want to answer this question? "Hear what?" she said evasively.

Noire paused, then coughed and motioned at the door. "I think she's still there. You should open it. Talk to her," she suggested gently, but Neptune made no move to comply. The ensuing silence gave her chills.

Noire, after a moment, stepped back wordlessly. She stood still for a moment—Neptune could practically hear her thinking—then she withdrew into the room, out of sight.

 _Why do things have to be so hard?_ she wondered as she collected herself and reached for the doorknob. She braced herself for the worst and pushed it open.

"Neptune?" exclaimed a voice, but not the one she had been expecting.

"Huh? Nepgear?" Her voice rose in surprise, and a bit in embarrassment. Her younger sister and her entourage, consisting of Uni, the twins and some other people whose names she could not provide, happened to be walking past her door at that very moment. "Oh. Um... Yeah, I was just getting some air. Didn't expect to bump into you girls."

Nepgear nodded slowly, her eyes narrowed in cognition. "Blanc just walked past us," she informed her sister. "She seemed a bit busy though. Ram called out to her, but she didn't even notice."

"Oh. I wonder what she's up to. Well, alright Junior. See you later!"

Neptune waved them off, projecting a smile. But as soon as they were gone, she retreated back into her room and locked the door.

Out of energy to maintain her cheer, she sighed and rubbed her arm as if she could smooth out the goosebumps dotting her skin. Neptune was no stranger to pain, having been in some very difficult situations in her lifetime, but she had never been cut this deep.

She backed away from the door. Whatever was on the other side, she wanted nothing to do with it right now.

The sun had moved quite a fair distance in the time she had been standing at the door, and consequently the room felt darker than before. Doing her best to mask her angst and look unbothered, Neptune sat down on the bed and pressed her fists into her lap. _Smile,_ she told herself, acutely aware that Noire was seated just a few feet away. _Just pretend to be okay._ But even that felt like too much of a task for her right now. Try as she might, she could only manage a feeble smile.

There was some shuffling, and all of a sudden an arm was wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her in until she was practically propped up against Noire's person. She wished she could expel all her worries with a big sigh and give Noire an even bigger hug, but the feeling did not come. 'Sorry,' Neptune found herself saying, "I don't want you to worry too much about me."

"Hmph. Of course I'll worry. Who the hell do you think I am?" Noire scolded her with a light knuckle to the head. "Do you hate her for what she did?"

"No," Neptune replied without hesitation. "I don't, but… I'm just not sure how to talk to her anymore."

Trying to vocalize how she felt, she fell short of words. There was just never a good way to put it.

Outside the window, the sky was starting to turn red, a sign that nightfall was about to hit. It was not for a few more hours that she normally went to sleep. A hand smoothed her hair softly, but it stopped every now and then as if mind of the person it belonged to was wandering.

"You should still try," Noire told her, voice quavering. "No matter what you say, I don't think she'll hate you. And... I won't either." She pulled her legs up onto the bed, never moving her hand from around Neptune's shoulders.

"Yeah… I'll try. I will." Neptune nodded slowly, digging up every last ounce of determination in her. "Noire, I—I don't know how to thank you."

"Oh... J-just don't mention it."

Neptune closed her eyes, and all the vitality gradually seeped out of her body now that the immediate crisis was over. Tonight was her chance to regenerate, for tomorrow definitely would be difficult. Long enough she had run away from the issue, and it had finally caught up to her. Conflict was just around the corner, a storm on the horizon. Tonight—tonight was her last chance to be like this, and she was not going to waste that chance.

In a few hours, all the intimacy of right now would evaporate with the morning sun. There was no guarantee that the two of them would sit here together ever again, no guarantee they would kiss or hug or even look at each other the same way. Only one thing was sure: Neither she nor Noire could truly be happy like this, living in the shadow of something broken and left alone. They were both too conscientious to be okay with that; even if it meant the end of "them", this was a problem that she had to see to the end.

Neptune wished she could go to sleep and forget all this. She wished Noire would hold her and say that everything was going to be okay. But she could not escape shake the feeling that as soon as she fell asleep, the sun would rise and it would all be over.


	10. AUTHOR'S NOTE! Cheater Cut

Hi! Hello. _Just Another Love Story_ has not been updated in a while; however, it was not abandoned.

As of 2/4/2019, **THE REST OF THE STORY IS COMPLETE!** :tada:

The remaining chapters will be uploaded at regular intervals.

Because of the long intermission since the last update, I cannot expect or even ask anyone to read the first half of the story again. And so, I did so you don't have to. What follows is a brief summary of the story up to the ninth chapter, in one to three sentences per chapter.

* * *

If you have not read the previous chapters: **Spoilers ahead!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1** : The Musings of a Scriptwriter, in which Blanc muses on her success, herself, and her script. This is the night before Film Club shoots the opening scene of the planned third movie, and the night Blanc decides to start the movie with a passionate act of love.

 **Chapter 2** : Ex-Director, in which Tamsoft bails during the recording of the opening scene, and Blanc and Neptune have a heated argument in private over Blanc's failure to communicate her ideas to the rest of the club. Neptune tries to be agreeable, but when Blanc goes too far, she snaps and strips Blanc of her position as writer and director before telling her to leave the room. Blanc goes back to her room and realizes she fucked up.

 **Chapter 3** : Meetingless, in which the club (sans Blanc) meets the next day, everyone (sans Neptune) unaware that the club is at risk of dissociation. Noire, the last to leave when the meeting ends prematurely, notices that Neptune is down and lets her know that she's there for her. Noire then lifts Neptune's hand, gives her a high five, and walks out of the room.

 **Chapter 4** : Noire to Be Found, in which Noire accidentally ends up confronting Blanc in the library, debunking Neptune's flimsy excuse for Blanc's absence. Noire tells Blanc that if she values her friendship with Neptune, she had better get her shit together and talk to her.

 **Chapter 5** : Final Cut, in which Neptune bumps into Nepgear and Uni in the hallway after class. Neptune evades Nepgear's offer to hang out and returns to her room, where she drops her cheerful act and starts to cry when the past few days hit her all at once.

 **Chapter 6** : 888-NEP-TUNE, in which Blanc goes about her day dazed and afraid that Neptune will never speak to her again, because all her calls and texts have been ignored, and she cannot find Neptune anywhere. After class, Uni confronts her in the hallway, frustrated because Neptune is avoiding not only Blanc but everyone, before storming away. Desperate, Blanc begs her for Neptune's room number, but to no avail. However, Plutia hears her and provides.

 **Chapter 7** : Lost and Found, in which Noire visits Neptune in her room after school, only to call and find out that Neptune went for a walk and got lost in Gamicademi's sprawling city. Neptune sits down in front of a caf , and a waitress shows her an unobtrusive kindness as she waits for Noire to show up and pick her up. The two return to Neptune's room and hang out the same as always, only for Neptune to kiss Noire on the cheek and tell her how she feels.

 **Chapter 8** : Interlewd, in which nothing unusual happens between Neptune and Noire in that second-story room with a beautiful view of the city on the cusp of night.

 **Chapter 9** : See You Tomorrow, in which Blanc knocks on the door of Neptune's apartment and tries to make amends, but her apology does not click, and Neptune bids her good night and closes the door. Blanc stands limply in front of Neptune's room for a short while, but she leaves when she hears Neptune speaking to Noire. Neptune tries to ignore the ominous feeling she has about her relationship with Noire for the sake of one more night.

* * *

Thank you for waiting. Thank you for giving this romantic drama another chance, even though it really is just another love story.


	11. Embers

Blanc's plush blankets enticed her to slumber, as did the clock on the wall whose hands pointed close to midnight, but she did not want to go to sleep just yet. Night had always augmented her thoughts; sleeping early to her felt like a waste of time better spent thinking. Often she lay awake on her bed to collect her thoughts and mull over her books and stories, or think about her friends; one of her friends in particular had been on the forefront of her mind for hours now.

That friend was the very same person who had once complained to her in jest about not having enough screentime. Not only had that statement been untrue at the time, but it was exceptionally so now, for she captivated the stage of Blanc's mind like a dancer whose footwork spellbound.

Having stared at the ceiling long enough to put a hole in it, feeling utterly unproductive and fruitless, Blanc pulled a pillow over her head and covered her face. This entire time, she had not been able to come up with a single possible solution; she was at the end of her rope. She pressed the pillow into her face harder as if to smother her problems and released into it a wordless scream embodying all the things clawing at her from the inside.

"Are you happy, Noire?" She gripped the pillow harder, knowing but not caring that she was being unfair in blaming her colleague from Lastation. "I talked to her just like you said, but it didn't work. What now—what now, huh?"

The gap between herself and Neptune continued to grow in disregard of all her efforts. They continued to drift apart no matter how desperately her fingers grasped at the threads. Blanc was like a girl holding onto a bundle of balloons, watching them escape and float away one by one.

At this rate, the only future laid out for her was one without the personality, the unfiltered energy, the shining star that had been introduced into her life.

Had she waited too long to apologize? Or had she moved too quickly when she should have given Neptune more time? Had her apology yesterday been too much, or not enough? Blanc questioned herself again and again, only to arrive every time at the same conclusion, only to discard it and start again. She wanted to believe there was some alternative. There had to be a way to right her wrongs, because for all that she wished, there was no undoing the past.

She wanted to talk to Neptune. Neptune did not want to talk to her. What was she supposed to do?

For once, Blanc missed Neptune showing up at random times to bother her. Removing the pillow from her face, she sat up; her body's natural inclination was to fall asleep, and so she had to resist.

Her phone sat on her bedside dresser, no more than two feet away.

Hours prior, when she had been dragging her feet through the academy hallways after class, she had experienced her second confrontation with Noire that week. She had been searching for a glimpse of purple among the after-school crowd, plagued alike by hope and despair—hope whenever she passed by an open classroom, and despair every instance it turned out empty; hope again as she persisted in her search, and despair again as time passed and her search turned up no results.

Neptune had disappeared again. Not surprising in the slightest; there had been no enthusiasm in her goodbye the night before. Blanc was not silly enough to think resolution would have happened just like that, waking up and finding her social life normalized, but nothing had changed. Teeth grit and eyes forward, she had went on down the halls, scolding herself every time her heart jumped in her chest whenever she passed a person around her own height with short, light hair.

Someone had been walking behind her, their shoes tapping briskly on the metal flooring. Blanc had at first tuned out the sound, but when a person jostled her shoulder trying to walk past, automatically she turned and gave them a sharp look.

"Oops," came an unsorry voice. Blanc's features filled in with annoyance. Holding a plain white binder by her side, Noire locked eyes with her and gave a barren smile. It had been no accident, bumping into her here in this way; that much was obvious.

Scoffing by way of greeting, Blanc set her eyes straight forward and walked faster, intimating that they had nothing to talk about. But Noire had matched her pace as if they were buddies, even though they were nothing of the sort.

"Listen Noire," Blanc risked, her voice pithy. "I don't care if we're headed the same way, I'd rather be alone."

Noire said nothing. Blanc refused to even glance in her direction. They had walked in silence, keeping strictly to themselves.

A few of the students that lingered about in the halls noticed them walking and, spying their vice student president, straightened their backs and sent obsequious greetings their way. Blanc, her patience already stretched thin, glared at them until they had all averted their eyes.

"You don't need to be so vindictive about it," Noire said beside her, sounding as if she were sighing. "It's human nature. People are going to be respectful to authority."

"I don't need chumps waving at me because I happen to be walking next to a celebrity."

A group of chumps rounded the corner up ahead. Blanc slipped between them and left her follower behind. She hugged the right-hand side of the hall and slipped through the doorway of the campus library. She had hoped Noire would not follow, but she heard someone else entering the library behind her. Someone clearly did not understand the concept of personal space.

"Stalker," she muttered and headed for the back of the library, where she hid herself between the stacks of books and pretended to browse a selection of seldom if ever read novels.

Seeing Noire stop a little ways away, Blanc cleared her throat and snapped, "What do you want? Are you here to give me another pep talk? To mouth off at me? Spit it out already."

Despite her obvious efforts to remain equanimous, Noire did not seem unaffected by all the antipathy Blanc aimed her way. Her brow twitched, and she sighed, exasperated.

"You're so hard to deal with," she said in a strained but level voice. "Now I see why Neptune's been avoiding you."

Blanc ignored her. The words had struck a nerve, no doubt their intended purpose—but she managed to keep her mouth shut. There was no point in rising to the taunt or trying to one-up it. No big deal; she could get over one dig at her character.

Noire sighed. "Blanc, are you Neptune's friend or not?"

The first words that had come to mind were, "Of course." But she had hesitated. Did Neptune still consider her a friend? Were they _ex_ -friends?

"See, that's exactly it!" Noire raised her voice suddenly, breaking the sacred rules of libraries. "You aren't even sure if the two of you are still friends. If you can't tell _me_ how you feel, what will you say to her?"

"It's not that easy, okay? I tried! I told her how I felt. You were there"—she immediately knew that she was right from the poorly masked guilt that showed on Noire's fact—"you heard everything! You listened to us talk—you know what happened!"

"You aren't thinking about how _she_ feels!" Noire yelled, but then she faltered and grew quiet, the same way the tide crashed over the beach before retreating back out to sea. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. "It's hard for her too, you know."

Noire looked like someone who had just remembered something they were trying to forget. It was as something had possessed her for a brief second—sapping away the part of her that was always ready with a fast rejoinder. Her entire person had changed; her voice had ebbed, her face had sunk, her shoulders had fallen. But her words, softly spoken, carried.

Blanc felt a fire leave her heart. Strangely, she had no doubt her colleague was right. Even though Noire could be a caustic dweevil at times, she was definitely a good friend of Neptune's.

 _How she feels..._ Blanc felt as if a hand had gripped her heart meaning to pull it from her chest. If only she knew what was going on inside Neptune's head; if only Neptune knew what was going on in inside Blanc's own head.

A deep-seated frustration settled over her, aimed more at her own shortcomings than anything else in particular. Her fault, her hesitation, her blindness, her inability to communicate properly. These and more had stopped her from fixing the problem.

"The club is starting to get worried too," Noire continued. "Even I'm getting messages from people asking about you and Neptune. They're all trying to help. Our sisters most of all. Don't tell me you forgot they're all caught up in this too."

Blanc had indeed forgotten all about it. "There is no more Film Club," she replied instantly, thinking of her barren writing desk and the pile of scraps behind it. "Plus, I... I don't have a script anymore."

All Noire had offered for her excuses was a scoff. "You're going to let your own breakups get in the way of the movie?" Her voice carried an edge it had not before. "How will you ever complete something if you shy away every time you get burned?"

Surprised, Blanc raised her head. She met Noire's challenge, eye-to-eye.

"You were the most passionate about making the movies," Noire said. "You were the director, not Neptune. We were _your_ team. She may have brought us together, but without you, none of us would have stayed."

Her team. _Her team._ Hearing those words from Noire was so surprising, so eye-opening, that it took her aback for a few seconds. It was true that Blanc had always been the source of the Film Club's inspiration; in that, there was little to doubt and little to be modest about. She handled most of the decision-making, and she came up with the ideas, but until now she had thought about how she held the group together.

Blanc had been so absorbed in doing her own role that she had never taken a step back and looked at the big picture: She was the star of their solar system.

But that had never been her intention. As the scriptwriter, she should have been in the background of the movie-making machine.

 _But..._

Writing the script and proposing it to the assembled club members; discussing what was good and what needed revision; planning out the scenes day by day and making the set before finally turning on the camera to film—it had all been so much fun.

There had always been something to look forward to. Every day, she had something to be excited for. And she had not been the only one: The faces of her friends, of Neptune and the others, had always been so full of enthusiasm and never discontent. They had taken their jobs seriously, but the time they spent together as the Film Club (together in purpose) had brought them close.

Blanc's face must have been glowing like a neon sign. Noire crossed her arms, evidently happy with the response she had facilitated.

"We're all waiting on you. Me, Neptune, everyone else. She's been acting a little dejected and moody lately, but I think it's pretty obvious that she wants you to say something. It's not like her to be so anxious. We're talking about Neptune, after all. I would do something about it myself, but... I'm not you. You're closer to her than anyone else." Noire, for a few moments, lost the sharpness in her eyes. "I couldn't replace you. It wouldn't feel right."

Noire then fell silent and shut her eyes, sucking in a deep breath as if she had emptied her lungs of air. Then she had opened one eye and offered Blanc a rare smile.

"Good luck."

 _ **Just Another Love Story**_

A pillow resting in Blanc's lap hit the ground with a _fwop_ as she clambered out of bed and grabbed her cell phone off the drawer. She had dozed off for a few minutes with still on—never a good thing.

Pulling up her list of contacts, she tapped Neptune's name and read the last desperate message she had sent days ago. Biting her lip, she scrolled up, looking guiltily at the message log before flicking her thumb across the screen and bringing herself back to the present. She had one more message to send.

"She'll read this one," she murmured to herself, pulling up the virtual keyboard. Pleading, bargaining, begging, she left all out and got straight to the point.

 _Please,_ she prayed silently. _Please let me talk to you. Come on, Neptune._

Blanc sent the message and watched it appear in the chat box with all the others, another footprint in the digital sand. However, whether Neptune would actually read it—let alone bother to come—she had no idea. Either way, gawking at her phone would not change a thing.

Night crowded against the glass window on the far end of her room, barely kept out by the string of light fixtures on the wall opposite Blanc's bed. Shadows had already crept into the recesses, particularly into the upper corners of the ceiling. Her surroundings felt almost unfamiliar. At this time, she was usually in author mode—at her desk, pen in hand, with the table lamp on—burning the remaining daylight, so to speak.

This was the first time she sat in bed facing both light and dark, the fluorescent lights lining her wall and the blackened window to the right. It was as if both powers, deeply engaged in contesting the other, had forgotten to illuminate or endarken the farthest corner and the girl sitting there with her knees up. She was left in a murky limbo.

Blanc got up and walked over to the window. She placed her phone facedown on her desk as she passed.

Resting her hands at the bottom of the windowpane, she peered into the darkness, touching her nose lightly to the glass. From her second-story vantage, she could not make out the ground nor the cliffs in the middle of the night. Only the stars in the sky were visible, but the sheer number of them almost made up for the earth's invisibility. It reminded her of Lowee; the lucidity of the stars was stronger there than any other place in Gamindustri. Though, the sky above the academy island sure came close in holding a candle to her boreal homeland.

Although the window was closed, she shivered as if a nocturnal chill had phased through the glass. She could not see a thing, but the sensation she got from looking out of the window was dizzying to the point where she had to drag herself away.

Rubbing her forearms, Blanc plodded to the bed and let loose a pent-up breath. Despite telling herself over and over that her purpose was loud and clear, that she was relaxed and confident and would not falter (in truth she was not) her heart beat out of her chest. It dropped to the ground, pushed itself up on tiny arms and legs, then saluted and vanished into the shadows.

This could be her last chance to save her jeopardized friendship. This could be her last chance to talk to Neptune. Worse, maybe she had already used her last chance. Perhaps now she was waiting for nothing, worrying herself to death until the sun rose in the east without anyone showing up.

 _Tap tap tap._ A wooden sound, thrice over. Blanc froze. Someone was on her doorstep, and it could only be one person.

Without thinking too much about it, she approached the door, her steps hurried, and grabbed the handle, twisted it, opened it. And no matter about all her prefacing, no matter how much or how meager, the strings in her chest tightened at the sight of her friend Neptune standing only two feet away with her hands by her side and her face turned slightly to one side.

"Neptune. You... actually came." Blanc stepped back hastily and opened the door wider, inviting her in. Neptune hesitated, her eyes flashing past Blanc into the dorm as if she were about to enter a monsters' den.

"Yeah. I read your message. I couldn't just not show up. That wouldn't be chill, right?"

Blanc shut the door when they were both inside. At the click of the lock, Neptune stopped and turned around. The look on her face really was like a greenhorn dragon slayer recently reminded that dragon's breath was hot enough to burn. That look vanished after a few moments.

Neptune muttered an apology and removed her shoes, a pair of blueberry-and-cream high tops that she set down by Blanc's at the door.

"It's 11 PM," she pointed out when she had straightened up. "What would you do if I had already gone to sleep?"

"Stand around 'till morning, I guess," Blanc said, her tone implying that she was joking. But she really would have done just that had Neptune never shown up. "Uh... Sit anywhere you're comfortable. You can leave at any time."

Blanc faked a cough to clear her throat and hide the hitch in her voice. Already, she could feel the tension in the room; it was like a noxious mist, thin but impossible to avoid breathing in. It scared her heart into beating two times as fast.

"O-oh, yeah, my bad." Having realized that she was still standing in the entryway (the reason Blanc had told her to sit anywhere), Neptune apologized meekly and moved so they could go in. Her feet moved slowly, her eyes as well, as if she were sweeping for mines. She found none and finally sat down in Blanc's chair, which creaked and settled every time she made the slightest motion. The window and its view of nothingness drew her eyes just as it had Blanc's.

Left with no other place to sit than the bed, the writer eyed her desk wistfully. Barren enough without her papers, notes, and scattered writing implements, it looked even stranger with someone else sitting in front of it.

 _Well, she's here._ That was one victory. But what now? She should have gathered her thoughts while she was alone in her room. Now that Neptune was actually here, it felt as if the air were finite, too little for the two of them. How should she start? Did she attempt to lighten the mood or skip to the point?

She missed her hat. It sat unobtainable atop her dresser, and she did not want to get up and get it.

"Hey..." Neptune herself finally broke the silence. Her voice came out quiet and almost raspy. It tapered until she cleared her throat with a few coughs. "I'm sorry if it seems like I've been avoiding you. I never wanted to fight you like this, but... it's just... been hard, I guess."

Neptune finally turned away from the window, her eyes impregnated with the same ember of melancholy that Blanc had gotten after staring through the darkness-frosted glass. As she brought her hand up to fiddle with her bangs, Blanc was able to see her profile and the unbespoken guilt in her face.

"I don't blame you. Not after all that's happened." Blanc was quiet for a few seconds, trying to think of a better way to convey everything in just a handful of words. "It got... really messy. I wish I could take everything back, to be honest. After we fought, I thought that was it. That it was over, that you'd never forgive me. Something about it scared me a lot. I spent so many hours just regretting things, when I really should have been trying harder to make it up to you."

Divulging all that had lain on her heart for the past week, Blanc found that she was shaking violently, like a lone pine tree in a snowstorm, and that she had already blinked and spilled the tears pooled in her eyes. She could see Neptune's blurry face in her peripheral vision.

Blanc closed her eyes and wiped her face. She waited for herself to calm down.

When she opened her eyes again, her vision was mostly clear, and she caught Neptune's eyes from across the room. _Be strong,_ she told herself, taking a tremulous breath.

As if mindful of Blanc's emotional state, Neptune looked away. "I'm sorry too," she said. "I just... I just..." After a few failed attempts, she scowled, her face warped in frustration. "It was really my fault, Blanc."

Blanc immediately shook her head. "No, it was—"

"You know it's not like me to hesitate," Neptune carried on, cutting her off, "But when it was just me and you, and we were talking, I felt like there was this... invisible wall, between us. I thought you were mad at me, so I didn't want to say anything, but then I started getting mad too." As she spoke, her voice peaked in intensity and plunged in despair until the two were too much the same to draw the divide. Neptune had clearly thought about all of this, that much was clear. "If I had just told you everything from the start without trying to—I dunno, be subtle about it—then you wouldn't have misunderstood and this wouldn't have happened! 'Cause, like, what I wanted to say got mixed up with a whole bunch of other things, and... and then... yeah."

Her last word rode on a tired breath, a sigh over some unforgivable revision. It was the kind of sigh that, if left alone, only bred more of the same feelings—the kind of sigh that required a response.

"We both said things we didn't mean," Blanc said as a way of compromise. She felt that they were dangerously close to arguing who the blame lay with. "I'm sorry for losing my temper all the time. I don't know why you stick up with me after all the times I've snapped at you." Suddenly, Blanc felt as if she could not stop speaking there. The need to explain herself overshadowed her reserve. A tremor entered her voice, and tears entered her eyes. "I'm a terrible person, you know? It doesn't make me happy to see people tiptoeing around me like I'm some kind of time bomb. I don't want people _scared_ of me. It's such a shitty feeling knowing you're such a shitty person"—at this point, she was crying too much to go on speaking coherently. Whatever she said after that, it was slurred and a little repetitive of something she had said already.

When Blanc gave up on talking, her elbows were on her knees and her face was pressed into the web of her hand to obscure the tears flowing freely out of her eyes. All was quiet for a moment, then Neptune spoke.

"You're not a terrible person. You're not a terrible person, Blanc. You're a really good girl, you know that?" Her voice was low and kind. She sounded like a father speaking to his son, reminding him that one weakness didn't define a person. "Just because you aren't good at one thing, it doesn't make it a character flaw. It doesn't make you a bad person just because of it, you get me? Even we aren't perfect, so what would that make everybody else in the world if we're terrible people because of one or two things?"

Neptune got up from the squeaky desk chair and moved over to the bed. She sat down next to Blanc without touching her and went on. "You're my friend, so I'll overlook all that kind of stuff. I know you too well to hold a grudge because I know you never stay mad without there being at least some sort of reason for it. You just have to forgive me for getting all stubborn-like with this stuff every once in a while."

Blanc tried sitting up straight, but she found it hard to lift her eyes. "Thanks." She sighed. "I feel like I don't deserve you as a friend."

"Nah, s'all good." Neptune's face suddenly shifted into a smile. "I like being with you. There's enough good to balance out the bad. I feel like you without your short temper wouldn't be the you that I love hanging out with."

The smile never dropped from Neptune's face. Blanc felt her facial muscles twitching as well. All of a sudden, the entire situation and all of the past week seemed absurd and petty. They had come to an understanding, after Blanc had worried for hours that such a thing was a ghost of a chance.

She breathed a sigh of relief. No more of their stupid feud, their shared fear of bumping into the other in the hallway. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes again, but somehow, this time, she held them back.

A short while passed, feeling more like five minutes than one. The entire time, they held a conversation without words, much like two people watching a familiar movie together. In Neptune's face, she found empathy. She related to the sadness in her eyes and recognized the happiness in her smile.

Blanc crossed her legs.

"H-hey, um. I don't know if it was just me, but, I had a lot of fun making the movies. Even though they are sort of silly and all over the place, and I'm probably way more invested in it than I should be. I got so wrapped up in it that I forgot to think of you. But if you want to keep going, then I promise that I'll always consult with you first."

 _There we go._ She exhaled and casually put a hand over her chest. Her pulse had quickened, and she was hoping it would return to the average soon.

"You weren't the only one. I sort of lost my head too, ha ha ha..." When Blanc looked up, Neptune was biting her lip. "But, you know, I still feel kind of bad for our Tamie tomboy. She's probably scarred for her next two lives."

Picturing Tamsoft's face, its lineaments and loud orange eye shadow, and the look of shock that had been so out of place on it, Blanc was unable to hold back her laughter. It bubbled up from somewhere inside her until it boiled over, infecting Neptune too.

"We should have spared her innocence," she said, composing herself just long enough to speak. Neptune burst into a bout of renewed laughter, and again, Blanc felt the urge—the need—to laugh as well. All the oppressive heaviness from earlier, the force of gravity that depressed shoulders and bent postures, was now blown away. That thin, oxygen-deficit air turned into a delicious breath of relief, rapidly consumed by the two girls making erratic high-pitched shrieks of joy together.


	12. Causing a Scene

Neptune was in trouble. Her own room was a drowning chamber, slowly filling to the roof with murky water, and all she could do was lie on her bed and wonder how she had ended up in this prison in the first place.

Her day up until now had been great. She had caught Nepgear drifting downcast and directionless through the hallways earlier today. Nepgear had brightened up like a firefly at night at the sight of her older sister up and about, and they had been able to have a normal conversation for the first time in a long time. In just a few minutes, it was as if the invisible worries piling up on Nepgear's shoulders had never existed at all.

The two of them had always been on the same frequency: quick to detect when the other was feeling down, and equally quick to detect when things were right again. An inside joke between some of their mutual friends was, in fact, "Nepgear and Neptune, never not in-tune."

On top of making up with her sister, Neptune had finally, finally made up with Blanc the night before. She had walked out of Blanc's room perfectly calm on the surface, but she had been reeling on the inside. A huge weight had been taken off her mind, and once it was gone she had felt giddy, carefree, light as air. All day today, she had tried to avoid getting distracted, but every time she thought about it (which was quite often) her face twitched, and a happy feeling emanated from her chest like a warm coal nestled right next to her heart.

She had not slept last night until one in the morning. She had continued talking with Blanc after they made up—at first only about the movie, then gradually about other things that were going on in their lives, until eventually their conversation seemed to include everything under the sun like a Katamari ball.

Blanc had opened up more as time went on, becoming more willing to voice her thoughts and make jokes and laugh. Her beige hair had seemed to shift between hues in the light of her adjustable desk lamp, which had been their only source of illumination into that night.

Neptune had not wanted their conversation to end, but by midnight they were both starting to yawn. She had stood up slowly, adjusting her clothes as she talked in hopes of postponing the inevitable for a few moments longer. Perhaps sensing her hesitance to leave (or possibly because she felt the same way herself), Blanc had asked if it was okay if she visited Neptune's room, so they could work on the script and talk some more. Neptune had agreed easily. Under the promise that they would pick up tomorrow night where they had left off, she said good night and left, gently shutting the door of Blanc's room.

By then, the sun was long gone. The academy's ceiling lights had dimmed to save power, leaving her with only a trace of moonlight to guide her back to her bedroom.

She had walked back in blissful tranquility. The concert hall in her head where her thoughts typically clamored for attention was oddly silent. Her room, when she stepped inside, was darker than she had ever seen it, seeing as she was usually asleep by this time of night. Since she planned to go to bed, she neglected turning on the lights, slipped out of her shoes, and walked toward the corner with her bed.

Her heart had thumped when, in crossing the room, she tripped over a pair of left-out game controllers from the night before, and the night before that, and before that—

And that was when she had realized her mistake.

Noire had been coming over every day to keep her company, and on four days out of five they usually ended up playing games together. Unless an unexpected issue cropped up, Noire was going to show up at the same time as usual. But now Blanc planned to visit as well, and Neptune had forgotten to tell either of them about the other.

This was bad. Really bad. Like putting two very powerful magnets in the same room. Worse than the time she had run out of credits to pay for a meal, and she had been forced to offer her katana as payment, and that was pretty bad.

The very next day, she had gone right back to the establishment to pay off her tab and retrieve her weapon, but Histy had never let her hear the end of it. Her lecture had gone on and on about respect and things a CPU should never do, and how not in a million years has something like this happened... And so on, and so on.

Well, this was something a CPU should never do if she valued her life and her friends and her friends' friendships.

Neptune grabbed her head and made as if to pull out her hair.

"Agh, not like this! Come on, what should I do Histy?!"

In a brief moment of hysteria, she found that she missed the advice-giving fairy companion that seemed always to hover at her shoulder.

If Histoire were here right now shouting at her to listen, then listen she would have done. But Histoire was across an ocean, for once completely unbothered by Neptune's absence in the Basilicom. Homestay at Gamicademi had been her idea, after all, and she had arranged the entire trip for all of the four CPUs. Her work might actually be easier with Neptune's admittedly wild-card work ethic out of the calculations.

Not bothering to repress a groan, Neptune rolled in her bed. Every passing second brought her closer to her doom; the water level kept rising. She combed her brain for a saving grace, some bright idea to make ends meet, but it was as if the voice in her head was too busy screaming to come up with any plans. She mussed with hair then spent a minute fixing it. She tossed and turned until her shirt had bunched up around her solar plexus and her shorts had started to slip.

 _Knock! Knock knock!_

Neptune froze before swinging her legs out of bed and standing up, slowly and silently, to answer the door. Halfway there, she paused and turned around to eye her unmade bed and the clean, unfolded clothes heaped on her table. She had planned to tidy up before anyone got here, but there was no time for that now.

Sure enough, as she approached the door, her biggest fear was confirmed—on the other side of the door, she could hear two voices, bitter and hushed, furiously engaged in an argument that no sane creature would dare come in the middle of.

 _Roll the dice, pay the price,_ she admonished herself as she stood poised with her hand above the handle. Neither voice seemed aware that she was there. More afraid of what could happen if she let them be instead of letting them in, she unlocked the door and stepped back to open it wide. Whatever discussion was going on came to an immediate halt. Two pairs of eyes turned on her, one metallic red and the other a dull blue, and for a few seconds she could see the intensity in both before it faded.

"Oh, Neptune..."  
"Hey, Neptune."

Blanc and Noire greeted her in sequence, their voices and faces friendly minus the steely sharpness in both their eyes. At first, Neptune was tempted to crack a joke, but she abandoned the thought, not wanting to risk making a dangerous situation worse. She settled for a smile, a wry one to let them both know she was well aware of what she had done, and invited them in. Blanc, clutching a few leaves of paper and a fountain pen, slipped briskly into the room.

Noire hesitated to follow. She gave Neptune a look that was at the same time vexed and confused. "I'm not interrupting something, right?" she asked, her voice so indifferent it stabbed straight into Neptune's heart. "I could always come back later."

Even though Neptune knew the suggestion was sensible, for a reason she did not understand, she could not bear to send Noire away at that moment. "No no, you aren't! You can stay." She took Noire by the arm and pulled her into the room. Childish or not, she did not want Noire to leave. Her presence was comforting, like an oil lantern burning steadily through the night.

Her room was much too small to comfortably accommodate three people at once. _Magnets,_ she thought again as her visitors gravitated toward opposite ends of the room. Her place was in the middle as the only buffer and common ground between the two.

She could only hope that they were not feeling very combative, because in the case of an argument, she would be seated right smack in the middle of the crossfire.

At times like these, the olive branch had to be extended. But for that to happen, the olive tree had to lose a limb.

"Oh yeah," she blurted, her mouth tasting like lies as the words left her lips, "I have some extra pudding left in the fridge." She stooped to open the cooler door. A wave of chilled air wafted out. On the top shelf of the refrigerator, above her cans of juice and snacks, and the fruits that Noire had stocked the fridge with over the past week, sat her last two cups of ambrosia—golden, silky, and tremulous with fear at the idea of being given away. "If you guys are hungry, I'm willing to sha..."—she swallowed hard, the word loath to leave her throat—"Shaaare."

With tremendous effort, Neptune tore her eyes away from the dessert cups and looked over her shoulder at her friends, expecting and dreading them to nod their heads. Food was usually a good way to lighten the mood, as far as her own experiences went. And sometimes, sacrifices had to be made. Dessert or friendship—when it came down to it, only one of the two could be restocked at an item shop.

Blanc and Noire shared a look, then their eyes went back to her.

"No thanks. You eat it, Neptune."

"Yeah, I'm not really hungry. Thanks though."

Neptune stopped, her fingers centimeters away from closing around the pudding peace offerings. This was the first thing they could agree on—to turn down her mega-rare, once-in-a-lifetime offer, literally rarer than scouting a 4 member without a rate-up event?

Almost indignant, she opened her mouth to complain but then thought better of it. As much as it bothered her that her largest-ever show of hospitality had been brushed off as if it were nothing, it was better to play the hand she was dealt than lose more than she needed.

She closed the fridge and stood up. This whole situation was starting to make her head hurt.

"Here, Neptune," Noire said as she settled down on the bed and crossed her legs. She held out a canned beverage. "Sorry, Blanc," she said with a glance in Blanc's direction. "I would've bought one for you too if I had known you'd made up with Neptune."

"I'm glad you didn't," Blanc said without so much as a pause. "You wouldn't have known what flavor I like, anyway."

Neptune accepted the drink with a thank you and sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to leave a gap between herself and Noire. She pulled the tab; the drink fizzed loudly toward the top of the can, and she brought it to her lips to prevent it from spilling. Sweet, sparkling, heart-pounding fruit juice flooded her taste buds, and she checked the label: "strawberry cherry lemonado". No wonder it tasted so pink.

She chanced a look at Blanc, who stopped glaring at Noire as soon as she noticed Neptune looking at her. Blanc arranged the stack of papers she had brought with her on the desk. She seemed tense; her fingers failed multiple times trying to separate the papers, and her tongue clicked in frustration.

Afraid that things were already off to a bad start, Neptune called Blanc's name and waited for her to turn around. "You can have some of mine if you want," she said, offering the can.

"Oh. W-well, just a little bit then. I'm thirsty." Blanc leaned over and accepted the drink. She hesitated and looked at the label before taking a small sip and handing it back. "Thanks," she said quietly and turned back to the desk. "We should start working on the script now."

Neptune nodded. Blanc picked up her pen and rolled her wrists as she customarily did before writing. While she started to explain her plan for the night, Neptune pulled her legs up onto the bed and put a pillow behind her back so she could sit against the wall. There was still a reasonable amount of sunlight left, so she might as well be comfortable.

In full work mode, Blanc's pen glided across the paper, pushing out dialogue and notes for the first revision of their screenplay. Every few minutes, she read something aloud or directly asked for input, which Neptune and Noire provided.

"You should try to keep the dialogue as realistic as possible," Noire commented during a discussion about one of the heroine's lines. "Nobody would ever say something with so many frills and fancy words in reality."

"That's kind of hard to avoid," interjected Blanc," Especially when you consider that these are fictional characters in a world that the viewer should already have assumed functions differently on a fundamental level. It's fine if people talk a little differently. Plus, you still get people in real life who dress up their speech like that anyway."

"I was just saying, realism is pretty important. People have the most appreciation for the character who says things as they are and gets things done. It has to be relatable, because we aren't trying to make some kind of Shakespearean play here."

"I dunno if it's just me, but the heroine seems pretty relatable as far as this scene goes." Neptune swallowed, doing her best to summon specific evidence to back her claim. "There was that part earlier where she just says nothing, you know? I know it's not just me, everyone's gotta feel that way sometimes. That's pretty real, don'tcha think?"

Noire sported an obstinate frown, but after a second she nodded and returned to her book. Blanc looked darkly at her before returning to her work. Neither of them seemed inclined to give an inch in the clashing of their wills, but at the very least they were not fighting yet. It was a precarious balance, with Neptune as the mediator, but they managed to scrape by without having too intense of an argument.

Rewriting the whole first scene took over half an hour, if the clock's hands were anything to go by. Neptune had opened a game on her handheld so that she could grind levels for her new party members (the game was a turn-based RPG with one of the most annoying post-game dungeons she had ever experienced) but her heart was not in it. Twice her adventurers had fallen, both times to the same common enemy in random encounters. The first death from a party-wide sleep-inflicting ice attack was one thing, but the second death made her realize she had no patience for strategy at the moment—she had neglected her defenses wanting for a quick kill. She powered off the game and put it away.

Daylight had begun to wane. Now was about the time that the other students started back to their rooms. Neptune could hear their footsteps every now and then as they passed by in the halls, an intermittent rhythm on the metallic tiles, but it meant nothing to the three of them in here. Nobody seemed to bat an eye to the walking or talking.

Blanc eventually stood, saying to nobody in particular that she was going to go get a light from her room. She disappeared for a few minutes, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She came back with a desk lamp sporting an adjustable wire neck.

Neptune drew her knees to her chest, bundling blankets around her legs. It was beginning to get colder. All three of them were wearing the same uniform with the only differences being in color, so they all had on the same thin blazer and above-the-knees miniskirt.

For a while, she thought she was the only one who sensed the temperature dropping, but then Noire put her book down and ran a hand across her exposed legs. Noire had chosen not to burrow under the blankets like Neptune had opted to do, and Blanc sat closest to the window, where it was probably even colder.

Neptune sighed inwardly. _Nobody's having fun right now,_ she thought, doing a shimmy to get the blankets up around her shoulders.

The room lights had been off all afternoon, and now only the shine of Blanc's reading light kept the place lit. Neptune's dark-purple hued duvet seemed to absorb the little light there was into itself and became warmer and warmer by the minute.

Neptune must have started to fall asleep, because the next thing she knew, her right leg moved on its own, jerking into her chest as if possessed. Her eyelids shot open at the extremely disconcerting feeling of not having been in control of her own body. She lay awake for a few breathless seconds. Her heart pounded, and she flexed her fingers and toes to be sure she still had all her digits.

Thankfully, her hypnagogic episode had ended as quickly as it had happened. As she calmed down, she registered voices and remembered who was with her.

Noire had moved from her spot on the bed to stand near the desk. Her palms were flat against the edge of the wooden tabletop, her back bent, and her shoulders pitched as she leaned over Blanc's workspace locked in what appeared to be an intense debate. The flow of her words was quiet, fast, and accusatory, and though Neptune had a hard time piecing together a full sentence, she had a hunch that the topic of discussion was herself.

A nettled sigh came from the chair, and Blanc stood up. She swatted Noire's hands away and collected the papers scattered about the desk. Surprisingly, she uttered no expletives, but the hostility in her glare said enough. She shoved the chair away and brushed past Noire (who hastily backed into the wall to let her through), and she would have stormed right on out if she had not glanced at the bed and noticed Neptune watching. She froze, papers clenched in her fist.

"Neptune... Never mind. I have to go now." Blanc cast her eyes down and receded from view behind the wall separating the bathroom and the bedroom. Neptune heard her strap on her shoes, heard her open the door and interrupt a group of chatty, perambulating students in the hallway. She heard Blanc's voice, lowered in apology, which was the last sound she heard before the lock clicked and silence settled over the room again.

With Blanc gone, the room seemed to grow ten times larger. Even the sound of Noire crossing the room and plopping onto the mattress could not dispel the heaviness, the feeling that was like amplified gravity drawing her downwards.

Neptune closed her eyes and thought about trying to go back to sleep, but she felt the mattress shifting. When she opened her eyes again, Noire sat just beyond arm's reach, on the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor and her elbows digging into her thighs. Noire was wringing her hands. A confounded expression had made its home on her face.

"I'm sorry," she said without looking up. "I made her mad. I wasn't trying to, I just... I don't hate her, but I just started talking, and..."

Automatically, Neptune told her it was fine, but she knew it was a lie from the moment the words entered her mouth. Noire knew it too. Her eyes stayed fixed on a spot on the carpet, unblinking, as if she were lost in thought. "Hey, Noire, don't be like that. Come on, gimme a hug or something. It's alright, you know?"

She put her arms out like an expectant mother waiting for a running, leaping group hug from her children. It struck her as weird that she was the one offering comfort for once; their roles from the past week had been seemingly swapped, except Noire seemed unwilling to play along.

Neptune thought for sure that Noire would give in eventually, albeit reluctantly, and come closer to let herself be hugged for a few minutes. Noire was simply the type who needed to be coaxed into relaxing. But after a few seconds, her surety started to wane.

After ten, it was almost gone.

After a minute, she drew her arms back under the blanket. She looked away from the bent figure that refused to respond. Her surety melted away like hail in a rainstorm.

"I'd better go," Noire finally said. She had finally spoken, but her words were not ones Neptune wanted to hear. "Don't worry, I'm not thinking of anything weird. But I need some time to myself, and you probably want some too. We need this. It's late too," she added without even a glance at the clock.

Neptune said nothing. She continued to say nothing, even though Noire was wrong—she wanted company, not time to hear herself think. But that was exactly what Noire wanted. Like a child torn between an act of selfishness and one of kindness, Neptune froze with indecision. She remained silent as Noire crossed the room and motioned to the dimmed desk lamp forgotten by its owner. "Do you want me to turn this off?"

After a moment, Neptune nodded. Her surroundings became shadows. She sensed Noire walk through the room.

It was quiet for a moment, until Noire cleared her throat and gave a brief, "Good night."

The door clicked open and closed again. Neptune stared into the darkness, where Noire had been sitting a minute ago. She listened until Noire had became just another set of footsteps moving indistinguishably through the hallway.


	13. After Hours

Noire pressed enter on the hallway vending machine's display. Behind the glass, an invisible mechanism moved a convex bottle into a transparent chute on the left where it dropped down and landed with a _kachunk_ in a receptacle below. She retrieved it then twisted the cap, letting the air rush out.

"Excuse me. Other people want to use the machine too."

Recognizing the voice, she did not so much as turn her head. She stepped out of the way as Blanc's face and hat came into view, reflected in the glass front of the machine.

While Blanc frisked her pockets for loose credits, Noire tasted her coffee and looked down the hall. Because the lights were off and the moonlight shined only weakly, she was unable to see until the end of the hall. The only sound was the quiet hum of electricity. Despite hundreds of students occupying the dorms, the building still felt vacant after hours.

"Blanc," she said. She paused only briefly at the noncommittal _"What"_ that came in response. "Do you hate me?"

A can dropped from the dispenser. "No, I don't," she heard. "Sorry if that's the impression you have."

"Oh. Alright." Taking a sip of her espresso, Noire peeked at Blanc. Her face showed no sign of irritation, though the fact that she avoided even a glance in Noire's direction betrayed a slight chariness. "Can I ask you another question? I won't force you to answer if you really don't want to."

Blanc grunted. That was clearance to go on, Noire decided, and likely the most she would get. "How important is she—uh, Neptune. How important is Neptune to you?"

Blanc took her time before answering. She pried open the tab on her can to drink, then she used the edge of her sleeve to wipe her mouth. The can, she set on the ground beside her feet as she turned and faced away from the glowing vending machine. Her profile was drawn together.

"You're asking a lot of direct questions, here," she remarked, sounding sullen. "But sure, I'll bite.

"The only reason I talk to Neptune is because she comes and finds me, and then she usually asks me to do something for her. I don't go out of my way to socialize with people, but we're pretty much in the same boat since we're both CPUs. She at least knows what I'm talking about... most of the time, but the most important thing is that she's not Ram or Rom, so dealing with her is like taking a break from dealing with them."

At that point, Blanc coughed and reached for her drink. She wet her lips before continuing.

"Now that I think about it, she's also the first person to... stand up to me, I guess, when I lost my temper. Everyone else just avoids me until I calm down, and then they never bring it up again unless they think I won't hear it. Neptune tried to reason with me, but I was still being unreasonable, so I kind of deserved it when she got mad and left. It wasn't until she did that that I really started thinking about how badly I had messed up."

Blanc lifted the slim canister to her mouth. However, she froze when the can touched her lips. She looked at Noire suddenly, though her eyes were unfocused and flicked past Noire's face multiple times.

"Listen, Noire... I don't hate you. I don't even dislike you, seriously, so please don't go around thinking I've made you my sworn enemy or anything. I guess I've just been pissed recently, and I ended up taking my anger out on you. So I wanted to say sorry. Just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks." Noire smiled and made sure Blanc could see it. It was her agreement, her way of saying to let the past pass.

They stood around a while longer. Noire remembered she had a drink and downed some of her still-cold sparkling water. But after the first sip, she did not feel like finishing the rest. It tasted as if she had gotten it from the tap, and she wondered where her thirst could have even gone. Noire swallowed and pretended that everything was fine.

"I'm sorry too," she said after a minute. Blanc turned to her, eyebrows lifted. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to stop you from spending time with Neptune. Because I'm not, I just... Um, let's just say I don't handle people well all the time, either."

"Hey, you're her friend too; by extension, we're friends, and we're obligated to at least try to avoid killing each other. The way I see it, we're doing a good job at something, right?"

"Right. I agree." They both smiled at the joke,

Blanc took one last swig of her drink, tipping the can vertically to get the last drop out, before tossing it at the trash can. She missed, sighed, and walked over to pick it up and dispose of it properly.

"Well. I'm going back to my room. Have a good night."

"Yeah. Good night," Noire echoed. Holding up her hand in a gesture of farewell, she watched Blanc walk off down the hall.

"Hm... Aahh." Left alone, Noire sighed. Once again, she was the only one around.

The windows throughout the hallway were open, tilted outwards on swiveling hinges. A breeze swept through the empty corridor, just a light whisper but still cold enough to make Noire draw her shoulder blades together and wish her uniform came with pants instead of a skirt. This hallway was on the second story and ran along the front of the school, where the wind was strongest just prior to sunset.

Noire went to the nearest window and closed her eyes, listening for a few seconds to the distant ocean. It was barely audible, but if she was still enough she could pick out the clamor of the beach and the sibilance of the water washing in and out.

With her eyes still closed, she drew what lay before her in her mind as she remembered it. At this time, the sky was orange and gray—eventually, it would turn a deep midnight blue. Below, wind sent ripples through a grassy field bordering the building. Where the field ended, cliffs dropped away into the sea.

Like an urban legend, the scene was reputed among the students at the academy via word of mouth. Anyone who had ever been up late at one point or another found an excuse to wander up to the second-floor hallway and check out the view.

When she was done envisioning it, she opened her eyes to check if she had it all down. She did, of course. Noire knew this view like the back of her hand—she had seen it so many times. If by this point she could not have sketched it from memory, she would have had to be blind.

Noire started making her way back to her room, moving slowly as if to avoid overtaking her shadow or the wind, or some other intangible thing. As for her unfinished drink, she tossed it into a trash can as she walked past.


	14. But She Refused

"Okay," Blanc said, her words full of crackles thanks to the inconsistent cell service at the academy. "I'll be spending the rest of the evening at the library if you need me. Thanks, Neptune. See you tomorrow."

Neptune lowered her arm. The name at the top of her phone screen was a faded white. She combed her bottom lip with her teeth and turned her head to observe Noire from across the room. Her friend sat in the corner of the bed, arms wrapped loosely around her knees. Not a sound had come from her direction since Neptune's laughably retro ringtone had gone off, though her wandering eyes belied her attempt to appear uninterested.

Neptune looked away for a second to reach back and lay her phone face down on the desk behind her. She was sitting at the desk, in her swiveling chair.

"So, Blanc's not coming today?" Noire asked after a few seconds. Her tone was indicative that she had expected otherwise.

"Nah. Blanc said what she's doing right now is easiest when she's by herself, so she wants to work in the library for a while. She told me she wants to finish writing everything for the first scene before tomorrow so we can go over it."

"Alright," Noire said simply. Neptune wished she would have said more, no matter what about. The lack of flow in their conversation made her uneasy.

Yesterday's events, as dramatic as they had been, felt even more surreal now that it was day—like a rainstorm battering on a roof all night only to slide off the eaves before morning. Everything had been reduced to a fleeting shadow of a memory, and she had no way of really confirming that it had even happened at all. Except for a short, vague apology from Blanc via text, neither of her friends had brought it up.

Neptune tried to ease the tension she felt by getting up and stretching dramatically. "Hey Noire, let's do something to pass the time," she said, as cheerfully as she could muster. "I have games, movies, and anime. Let's have some fun, you get me? What do you think?"

Noire bit her lip and thought for a few seconds. Her mouth, as Neptune saw from the side, was drawn into a taut line. In those empty few seconds, her attention flitted between the top of her knees and the window, then finally Neptune when she answered.

"Yeah, sure. Let's do something fun. I'm okay with whatever you want to do." Noire smiled a bit. Neptune smiled back and stepped across the room toward her sleek television set. She tried to crush the unease loitering in her gut. It was paranoia, like the lingering disturbance of seeing something unsettling very briefly only for it to scatter in the light. Something never visible but always present.

A stack of recently played games lay on the ground next to the TV stand. Most of them were singleplayer games, and the ones that did support multiplayer, Neptune just was not interested in playing. Her library of movies was lined up on the bottom shelf, a collection of watched and unwatched films. Two of them were labeled _Film Club_. She put them aside without comment.

"Have you seen this one?" Neptune said eventually, holding up a colorful box. She had made a safe choice: a heartwarming animated fantasy by a widely known studio with good art and cinematography and characters not tied to any other franchises.

As the film began to play (Noire had shaken her head and consented to Neptune's pick), Neptune climbed into her bed and mounded the blankets up around her. She deliberately left the space next to her uncovered.

"Hey, Noire," she said, patting the spot by her side.

Noire hesitated, eyeing the empty space as if she felt it were a trap, but in a few seconds she had scooted close enough for their hips to touch. Neptune reached past her and closed the blankets in around them. In the process of trying to shift the blankets, she got a faceful of silky black hair. Noire's shampoo, though unscented, pervaded and lingered in her senses.

Huddled like snowfield explorers by a campfire, they watched the movie for about an hour. To have at least something happening instead of insufferable silence made Neptune glad. However, she still tried to get Noire to relax—she saw the tension in her frame and just wanted her to unwind. Underneath the covers, her hand crept out feeling for Noire's. When she found it, she took it back to her lap and held it there.

Noire's hand was warm and pliable. Neptune pressed her fingers into the center of her palm, and in response Noire's fingers curled about hers.

They continued watching the movie, but the distant expression on Noire's face never fully disappeared. Neptune sighed and tucked her head into her friend's side, a move she thought was screaming _cuddle me!_ while at the same time saying she knew something was wrong. But Noire only shifted her arm so that Neptune wouldn't be uncomfortable and gave her a faint smile.

Finally, Neptune gave up on paying attention to the screen.

"What's wrong, Noire?" she asked, holding Noire's fingers and unballing the fist that was trying to form. She pressed them out like pieces of wire, straightening the knuckles until they were flat and compliant. "You know, a few days ago, you just wouldn't _stop_ saying my name, but now—"

Noire's face went red at the words and swatted Neptune's arm with her free hand. While Neptune snickered, she cleared her throat and stammered out, "S—I'm sorry. I'm not making it uncomfortable or anything, am I?"

"No, but I'm worried about you. You haven't been this quiet all week. What's up?"

Neptune moved her head closer. Something flickered in Noire's unfocused eyes like an indistinct film reel. What was she thinking about, Neptune wondered, that could make her this distracted? "Is there anything I can do about it to help you out here?"

"I..."

Neptune searched her friend's face but found nothing. She put a hand on Noire's shoulder, suddenly afraid and almost regretful that she had inquired too much.

"Noire?" she urged, feeling the words scrape against her throat.

"I'm not sure..."

Noire said nothing else. Whatever was on her mind must have been impossible to put to words. Maybe there just were not enough words in the world. Either way, Neptune did not know, and part of her did not want to know what it was that plagued Noire so deeply that she could not utter it aloud.

Neptune got up and turned off the television screen. She did not realize at the time, but she forgot to pause the movie. It continued to play invisibly and soundlessly.

Climbing back into bed, she settled down again. Noire had not moved an inch.

"I've been thinking..." Neptune nearly jumped when she heard Noire's voice. Realizing she had been staring at the wall for almost a minute now, she turned to Noire, whose eyes were fixated on their hands, entwined in her lap like a tight knot of vines that would not come loose.

"Now that Blanc's coming over and all, I've been thinking that I don't need to come over as much. Since it was only because I didn't want you to be alone in the first place... I feel like I might be overstaying my welcome now. I don't want to be clingy—"

"What? No, of course not." Vehemently against the idea, Neptune gripped Noire's hand tightly. "Come over whenever you want. I'm okay with it, and Blanc's okay with it, even if you two argue sometimes... or all the time, even then. It's cool, you know? It keeps the air clean. It's not a problem."

"But—"

"Oh come on, don't 'but' me," she said, following up with a playful shove. For a second, she reminded herself of her sister, at once playful and pushing and stubborn when she put her foot down. If only she could have borrowed Nepgear's persuasiveness for this moment.

The whole time, she held onto Noire's hand and did not let it go. Her hand was firm, but Noire's was unresisting. She squeezed a little harder, digging for a sign or an affirmation of _something_ , and to her relief she felt Noire do the same.

"I don't mean I'll stop coming over altogether," Noire clarified, "Just that I don't need to be here all the time. I don't want you two to feel like I'm overbearing."

"Don't gimme that, Noire. You aren't getting in the way. What are you saying, you sound like you're depressed. Is there anything we can do to cheer you back up again?" Neptune leaned forward to meet her eyes. "You feel like going out to the city or something? We can hit up an arcade, get something sweet on the way back. It'll be fun, and you know what? I think we both need it. Come on, let's go do that instead of staying cooped up in my room."

Neptune started to throw off the blankets covering their legs so that she could stand up. Her hand, small as it was, could still encircle Noire's slender wrists. She tried to pull Noire along, but Noire's arm was the only thing to move.

When she looked back, and Noire was still sitting there, the slim wrist slipped from her grasp. Noire's hand dropped as if it had been suspended from a string like a puppet's limb.

"Let's break up."

The words reached her heart before they registered in her head. Halfway between sitting and standing, one leg in and one leg out of bed, her empty hand still outstretched, Neptune's whole body froze.

Noire said something. Neptune could not make it out. At that moment, as if someone had run a bow across her heartstrings, she let out a sound and crumpled to the ground. She was on the floor, facing up, her foot trapped under a blanket hanging off the edge of a bed.

"Neptune! Are you okay?" Noire appeared in the center of her vision, her eyes round with surprise.

"S-sorry. My leg gave out," Neptune answered weakly. She freed her foot. From there, the only natural thing to do seemed to be to roll onto her side, putting the bed and Noire and her red eyes out of sight.

"Neptune..." Noire faltered. It was painfully, awkwardly, horribly quiet for a while.

"So," Neptune murmured into the carpet, "That's the way the pudding melts."

"I'm so sorry." Some time passed. Neptune raked her fingers through the carpet and gathered up as many of the fibers as she could in a fist. "I'm so sorry Neptune," Noire repeated, a frantic edge in her voice. "I shouldn't have said that."

Neptune rolled onto her back again. Noire was sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg down and the other folded under it. Her face was downturned but angled away. All Neptune could see was the side of her cheek and her jaw.

"But what made you say it in the first place?" She felt calmer now that she'd had some time to compose herself. But Noire said nothing. The time continued to tick away.

Apprehension began to creep back into her mind, vitiating the frail sense of composure she had barely just regained. Neptune's eyes alternated between her friend's face and that of the clock, its hands moving smoothly and silently in circles.

"Come on, Noire. You can't tell me?" She tried again. Pleading, she stared intently at Noire's chin, as if to it she could convey all her faith and love and desire to help. She wanted to yell, but no matter how loudly she called inside her head, Noire did not bat an eye.

"Not exactly," Noire finally admitted some time later. "It isn't that I can't tell you. Only, it's... well, it's complicated. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I don't know any other way to put it, okay?"

"No, it's not okay!" Having retorted not of her own accord, Neptune swallowed and sat up. She felt childish suddenly, then the feeling turned to remorse. For a second, she was scared of herself and how quickly her voice had turned sharp, how quickly Noire had gone quiet. "Just tell me why. I don't care about what it is or how it sounds. I just want to know what's bothering you, so I can... solve it, or fix it, or whatever it takes."

Neptune argued, but this felt different from the time she had argued with Blanc, way back when they had tried to shoot the third movie right after the second. That time, it had been more exhaustion: her soaking up negativity until eventually her patience gave out like wet clay. But right now, talking to Noire, she had burst out of nowhere, as sudden as the end of a solar system.

"I, uh... I'm going to go. To the vending machines." Noire unfolded her legs and stood up. "Do you want anything?"

She said nothing. Five seconds passed, then ten, and eventually Noire gave up waiting for a response that would never come. Stepping around Neptune, she headed away from the bed, turned into the entryway, stopped at the door. "I'm kind of out of energy too. I'm going to head back to my room afterwards. If that's okay with you."

Noire paused again, and for a heartbeat Neptune wondered what would happen if she were say something, to call Noire back or ask for a drink so she would have to come back. But Noire only paused long enough to unlock the door and step out into the hall, to check both ways to see if anyone was coming. Then: "Night, Neptune. And... bye."

The last two words were almost inaudible, but simply hearing it—Neptune curled her knees in closer to her chest, hugged herself a little tighter. Something inside her that was supposed to be as steady and unmoving as a pillar was now wobbling. She knew the exact word that encapsulated how she felt, but it was one that she tried to stay away from. One she avoided at all costs, even and especially in describing herself: sad.

Trying to reinforce that pillar in her heart, Neptune closed her eyes and almost fell asleep.

But then her body jerked, as if pulling her back from the brink of unconsciousness, and she was awake again.

 _No,_ she thought. _I can't give up like this. It can't end like this!_

Using the bed as support, Neptune forced herself to get off the floor onto her feet. _There's something I have to say to her._

She knew why Noire had said what she had said. She knew what the problem was. It had been there from the start, yet neither of them had acknowledged it. Perhaps neither had even realized it was there on a conscious level, but at some point Noire had.

It was her own fault their relationship was falling to pieces, because it had been founded on shaky ground in the first place.

The door was locked. Of course; Noire had a copy of the key, and she wanted to make things easier for Neptune. Neptune undid the bolt and ran into the hallway, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

 _Someone can raid my room for all I care,_ she thought, starting to run.

She had to find Noire so that she could apologize to her, to thank her. To tell her about all the things she had almost lost but still had, all because of her.

Noire had not been at the vending machines just outside of Neptune's room. A section of the hallway that ran along the outer edge of the building was bathed in blue light. Neptune looked out as she passed and saw some figures moving around in the moonlit field, but inside she did not pass even a single other person.

She kept running, not letting anything cloud her resolve. There was one more set of vending machines further along, closer to Noire's room. That was where Neptune would find her.

Flying through the corridors, turning corners and praying each time that Noire's unmistakable hairstyle would come into view, she carried on toward the last place she knew to look.

 _There she is!_ "Noire!"

The drum of her footsteps slowed. She continued at a walk, her shoes tapping lightly on the metal floor. Noire stood in the middle of the hall, head bowed in front of the vendors with a hand in her hair. Her arm came down, and with it her hair. A strip of cloth fluttered from her fist into the trash.

Adrenaline draining from her system, Neptune suddenly felt like a guilty criminal. She stared at the ground and her white-toed sneakers, the laces not done up in her haste to catch up.

"Neptune... You followed me?" Surprise was evident in Noire's voice. "You... you shouldn't have. It's not like there's anything more to see. I was just stupid."

"No. Noire, I'm sorry." Her guilt growing larger, Neptune walked closer but kept her eyes on the ground. The monochrome floor panels filtered across her vision. "I was running away this whole time. I was afraid of talking to Blanc, so I took the easy way out."

As the story poured out, she gripped the ends of her shirt as if doing so would help keep her voice from wavering. "I didn't feel like talking to anyone at all, but when you came, I thought—it wouldn't be so bad. You understood how I felt. You didn't make any fuss about trying to make me feeling better. We've always kind of gotten each other, you know? So that's why I thought... I thought..." She trailed away, but she refused to give up now.

"I thought I loved you," she finished.

Her face began to feel warm. A quivering blob started collecting on her lower eyelids, and Neptune tilted her head up to keep them from falling. She tried not to look at Noire and instead focus on the darkened ceiling overhead, but with one blink it all spilled out anyway. Tears spread across her eyes and blurred her vision like a soap film.

"I was an idiot!" She raised her voice, fearing she would never finish otherwise. "I wasn't thinking... I lied to you because I wanted to say I was in love, even though that wasn't really the case. I just wanted to keep running away from my problems. Because I was weak, and I didn't know how to fix them, I thought... I would just try to move on. And, well, I couldn't."

She was sure that standing there with her chin up and her hands clenched by her sides, she looked like a wreck. Turning her chin aside, she sank down and laid her elbows across her knees.

"I was in the wrong," she went on when Noire said nothing. "I never should've told you I loved you. I led you down that path, and I am so so sorry. I almost never apologize for anything, but this time I have to, since it's all because of me."

Brushing away tears, Neptune turned her head and drew in a long breath. Outside, the moon gave off the same muted intensity as ever. It would be the sole spectator of their encounter here tonight.

She watched it dolefully until she heard a rattle, at which she looked back up. Noire had given the vending machine a light kick, much like a petulant child would after losing something by dropping it in the water.

"I knew it," Noire said in a whisper. Neptune barely heard her. Making a fist, Noire punched the glowing metal frame, hard. "Why did I ever believe it? Why does this have to happen to me?"

Noire leaned against the glass, her forehead on her wrists. Blue light from the display threw strangely colored shadows across her face. Her voice seemed to break apart more and more with every second, giving Neptune a pang in her chest. "I should've said no, shouldn't have gotten in— _hhh_ —involved in"—she sobbed, unable to keep her voice steady—"in the first place... I'm so stupid!"

"I'm glad that you did."

"No, you don't get it. I'm the one who took advantage of you." Noire lifted her head, straightening up. "I knew it was wrong and that Blanc had feelings for you, and that you probably felt the same about her. But I let it happen. I knew, but I made the wrong choices anyway. I should've been a better friend, but I was... selfish. I wanted you to like me, so I tricked myself into thinking I was only there for you."

"But I was the one who suggested it!" Neptune interrupted almost desperately. "I wanted it. You were just trying to help."

"But I still went along with it anyway, because I wanted to believe I had a chance. At first I didn't want to get between you and Blanc, and yet, even as I told myself that... that's exactly what I wanted. I knew exactly what I was doing, but you just didn't know any better."

"Well, that doesn't mean much..."

Neptune tried to think of a way to prove her point but turned up empty handed. Noire's eyes were on her now, and they were intense. Sad, sympathetic, and intense.

"I know what you want to say. Stop trying to blame yourself for everything. That's not fair to either of us," Noire said.

Neptune's conscience did not want her to believe it, but Noire was right. They had both been in the wrong. It took two to be complicit.

"Just look at us," Noire said randomly. Her expression was the opposite of what Neptune had expected. Instead of a hard, stiff jawline, she saw a half smile; instead of mournful eyes, she only saw Noire's wine-red pupils coming closer. Noire crouched down next to Neptune and placed her hands on Neptune's shoulders and gave her a light shake as if she had come to a revelation.

"We're arguing over which one of us is the worse person. Aha ha... Aren't we both horrible people? Didn't we both do stupid things?"

"I mean, when you put it that way..." At first, Neptune tried to remain serious. "Heh..." But after she had slipped up, there was no point holding back a smile. Playfully, she pushed Noire's hands away before wiping her face with her blazer. "Yeah, okay, you win. But since they were my problems from the start, I get to be slightly worse."

"Don't say that with such a proud look on your face."

Suddenly feeling giddy, Neptune hugged Noire and pressed her face into the niche of her neck and shoulder. She felt a hand come up to hold the back of her head. Closing her eyes, she let herself be lost in her friend's arms. The embrace, familiar and casual, was the same one they had practiced countless times. Nothing had changed, except it felt like it had.

For awhile, they held each other. They cried it out. They listened to each other's sniffles and hiccups, patted their back until they were good again.

Neptune was not keeping track of time, but it must have been at least five minutes before Noire lowered her hands and clasped them against the small of her back.

"I'm sorry," Noire mumbled again right into her ear, otherwise unmoving. She said it again, then again, and then she stopped for a short while. "I hope it works out with Blanc. I really do."

Neptune breathed in slowly. Her cheek rested flat against Noire's shoulder, and her face was turned outward to the windows.

The moon was still there, and unless it was her imagination, it was lower in the sky than it had been the last time she had checked.

"Me too, Noire." She expelled the air she had been holding in. "Me too.

"Also," she remembered suddenly, "don't forget to grab your ribbon from the trash can if you want it back."

Noire seemed to remember her let-down hair and the ribbon she had discarded earlier. "Oh yeah. I will."


	15. Take Ten

_—What do you think about just making the scene implied?—_

 _—Like off screen?—_  
 _—That's a good idea—_

 _—Okay. I'll cut the scene from the script and we'll just hint that did happen.|_

Blanc pressed send and let her phone slide off her fingers onto the concrete gray of the cafeteria tables. She splayed her fingers, flexed them like claws, then worked her thumbs in circles as she lazily scanned the room.

She had been texting for almost an hour now, seated alone in the noisy high-ceilinged refectory slurping soup and noodles. Like most of the other smart students, she had made her schedule so that she could have a long lunch break between morning and evening classes.

Usually, she finished eating within minutes and pulled out the notebook that contained all her scribbles and all her pride. But constantly picking up and putting down a pair of chopsticks to type something out ate up a lot of time, so to speak.

While she ate, she ended up watching the screen more often than she would have liked. She was watching for one of two things: the ellipses that showed Neptune was writing a reply or the reply itself. Then she picked up her phone to write a message back, and so the cycle continued.

 _Oops._ Blanc smiled dryly. She licked the salt off her lips. Instant text messaging was probably one of the reasons people got overly attached to their phones. She only hoped she would not become completely dependent, like that guild agent IF. The last thing she wanted was to risk a heart attack from waking up in the morning and realizing she forgot to connect her phone to a charging station.

Blanc drank her soup and dropped her chopsticks into the empty bowl. She stood up, bowl in one hand and cellphone in the other, and stood behind the line of students waiting to drop off their dishes by the door. She texted Neptune as she waited:

 _—Lunch is over, I'll talk to you later.—_  
 _—Aren't you in class right now anyway?—_

 _—Uh... ha ha ha—_  
 _—You're still coming over today, right?—_

 _—Yeah, see you soon. Try to pay attention for the time being.—_

Blanc left the lunchroom and cleared the doors. Her next class was literature, one of her favorites and also her last of the day. She hid her phone in the side pocket of her book bag and zipped it up, then she slung the bag over her shoulder.

After a few steps, she unslung the bag and unzipped the pocket to make sure her phone was silenced and the pocket closed. Otherwise, she might end up texting Neptune until it was time for them to see each other in person anyway.

⁂

Class finally ended, after stretching out like a lounging cat that was in no rush to move from its spot on the windowsill. Today was the last day before the weekend, as well as one of the two days that Blanc had evening classes.

Even though it meant she got out later, taking classes in the evening made her feel much more relaxed afterwards than when she had to sit through several lectures back to back. It might have been thanks in part to the fact that she had time to eat lunch, take a nap, and do a little bit of reading and writing around noon, but either way she learned a lot. Especially since she was only a trial student, she made sure to apply herself fully and get the most out of her psuedo school career.

A placid murmur gathered overhead like a mist as her classmates filed out of the lecture room and into the hallway. They spread out like dust in a vacant room. The cool temperature seemed to suppress the usual after-school excitement that Blanc had gotten used to seeing among the Gamicademi students. Everybody seemed relaxed and unhurried, and the feeling had infected her as well.

Shoes shuffled across the metallic floor, tapping and scuffing out of sync in a low-energy parade. Blanc took it easy too, moving slowly and letting other people pass by rather than expend her energy. She eventually reached the stairs and headed on up to the second floor, where most if not all of the student rooms were located.

Starting from the room she had just left, Neptune's dorm was in the direction opposite of her own. But Blanc carried everything she needed with her: pens, pencils and plenty of paper. Those were all she needed to work, so there was no need for any detours. She could go straight to Neptune's room as they had planned.

As she walked, she tried to remember all the things they had talked about earlier over text. But it was as if she were digging through fine sand with her bare hands, trying to get ahold of it as it fell through her fingers. All she could really recall was their last exchange, the _talk to you later_ and _see you soon_.

Nothing happened on the way there. It was quiet and peaceful. Blanc's mind emptied like a sieve.

She almost did not notice that she had passed a vending machine en route to Neptune's room. It had a decent selection but seemed rarely used (every shelf being full and never empty), and it was unremarkable in every other way except for a unique electronic rim of cobalt-blue light that lined the front-facing edge of the machine.

But today, she wanted to buy something, so she doubled back and pulled out a few credits. She got a coffee for herself and a bottle of juice for Neptune, held onto both, and continued walking.

In a few minutes, she arrived in front of Neptune's room again. She knocked on the door then stepped back and waited. Her mind went back to the time not too long ago when she had approached this door with the feeling of a sinner before the scale, offering up her heart to be weighed and devoured.

Standing here now, she hardly felt the same way. If anything, she was overcome with excitement. Her ears pricked up when she heard quick footsteps, and she remembered to smile just as she heard the sound of a handle turning. The door opened, and Neptune's head appeared in the gap.

"Hiya Blanc," Neptune greeted her naturally and opened the door. She had on not her uniform (which made sense, seeing as the school week was over) but a white t-shirt and lavender shorts bearing a white stripe down the side. Everything was loose fitting, which was only to be expected of Neptune.

Seeing Neptune dress so casually made Blanc conscious of her own attire. She had come directly from her last class. All of a sudden, thigh-high stockings and a beige button-up blazer felt infinitely too improper for a casual visit.

"Hey Neptune. I got you something to drink," she said, putting both her hands forward. "Can you take these for me while I take my shoes off?"

Neptune grabbed the drinks from Blanc. She did not seem to mind that Blanc still wore her school clothing, though she did say, "Go ahead and hang your shirt up if you wanna get comfy. You can use those thingies there on the wall."

Blanc stepped inside, and true enough, there were some wooden pegs (the previously mentioned thingies) on the wall. A familiar purple uniform and red plaid skirt hung on two of them. Blanc bent down and removed her shoes, but then she straightened up and hesitated for a moment.

 _This is kind of weird,_ she thought, looking at Neptune's clothes. She had only ever taken off her clothes in her own company, behind closed doors. Sure, it was not like she had been tasked with stripping down to her underwear, but she was only wearing a white tank top underneath. _I guess it is a little warm,_ she conceded.

Since she was going to be here for the next few hours, she might as well make herself comfortable. Silently thanking Neptune for being so easygoing, she unbuttoned her formal top and hung it next to Neptune's. She kept her skirt, for obvious reasons.

When she walked into the room, the first thing she noticed was that the room felt unusually vacant. Her eyes flitted to the bed. The covers were made, nice and flat, except for the foot of the bed where a corner of the blanket had been folded up like a dog-eared page.

Every other time she had come in, Noire had been sitting there, either reading a book or playing a game. She had not said very much at all in Blanc's presence, only pitching in every now and then when she had something to contribute as Neptune and Blanc slowly, ruthlessly, hammered out what remained of the script. The most she had spoken was when Neptune had drifted off to sleep. Their talk at that time had not been amicable.

Without her sitting there, however, the room felt oddly quiet.

"Where's Noire?" she asked Neptune, swallowing afterwards as if speaking had left a hump in her throat. From over by the desk, Neptune glanced at her and the empty space.

"She's not coming today," Neptune answered as she cleared some space the desk. "She told me earlier." She finished moving thing saround on the desk and turned to Blanc, who was still standing in the mouth of the hallway with her bag in her hands.

"Uh, you okay?" she asked, snapping Blanc out of her reverie. "You're looking kinda... confused. You can sit down, unless you wanna stay standing. You already know I don't really care what you do in here, as long as you don't leave footprints on the walls or anything."

Blanc gave a vague shake of her head and unpacked her stuff, laying the tools of her trade out on the table.

"What are you doing for dinner?" she asked, trying to make the question sound extempore.

"I dunno."

"Classic Neptune," she said with a sigh and a shake of her head. "But I don't really have any plans either. I thought you might want to go out to the city later and get something to eat. So do you?"

"Sounds great. Do you know anywhere?"

"A few, but unless there's somewhere you really want to go, I figured we could just... figure it out."

"Sure! Sounds exciting." Neptune smiled. Blanc smiled back.

"Great. Okay, let's get some work done."

They stopped talking of dinner, which was too many hours away to be relevant. Blanc seated herself at the desk in a swiveling chair with linen-padded armrests. She settled in and pressed her palms into the cushy arms while Neptune made herself comfortable on the bed. Blanc at first scrutinized her blank paper while she tapped one of her fingernails against the desk. She made a sound in the back of her throat, almost like the way an animal grunts, keenly feeling a sense of pressure to get something down.

Eventually she ordered her hand to "hold pen and start moving", and within minutes the ink started to flow more naturally again. Working alone and working alone with someone else were radically different conditions. When Noire had been present, she'd had no trouble focusing, but things were different when only Neptune and herself occupied the room. And it was true—the presence of a third person simply shot intimacy in the foot.

Barely ten minutes in, Blanc's concentration broke. She had noticed something odd about Neptune's behavior: something not particularly strange in another context, but strange in this one. It seemed to Blanc that Neptune changed positions every time she spun around to think or ask her a question. Lying on her back one time, she sat with her legs crossed the next, only to stretch out again and roll onto her stomach, folding her arms under her chin. Yet she never wore a bored expression, and she stayed watchful enough to notice whenever Blanc turned around.

Their eyes would meet, Blanc would say something or turn back around, and the pattern would continue indefinitely for the next half-hour.

At first, Blanc thought nothing of it, but the thought itself was distracting enough. After playing with her pen in silence for a few minutes, she put it flat on the table and sat back, flexing her fingers.

Neptune stood up, went to the fridge and opened it, but closed it after a moment of hesitation. "Hey Neptune," Blanc said to her back. "Is there something bothering you?

"Me? Ah, nope. Nothing's bothering me." Neptune walked back to the bed and sat on it.

"Oh." Blanc tugged up on the neck fringe of her tank top. "Okay. Well... If there's something on your mind, you can always tell me."

Momentarily, Neptune let out that thoughtful sound people tend to make when they're thinking about doing something. She wore a puzzled frown, as if Blanc had asked a strange question.

 _Something's gotta be up,_ Blanc thought again but refrained from speaking. She turned away, feeling a twinge of guilt for putting her friend on the spot. "Sorry," she apologized over her shoulder. "Let's keep working."

She put pencil to paper again. Some time later, she raised her voice to ask for advice. It was the same routine as usual, the same work, and that was how they spent the next hour—sitting, lounging in Neptune's case, chatting every now and then, and reverting back into productive silence. Blanc struggled to find that productive silence when she worked alone.

As it was, the mood of Neptune's room was not uncomfortable. Just uneventful. It was as if she were back in her lofty room in Lowee, her mind as free to roam as she was physically, in that needlessly large room with more floor than furniture.

Blanc eventually found herself so relaxed that she nearly forgot about Neptune's existence for a few minutes. Nearly, because it was a little hard not to notice when Neptune stood up to pace and peek over her shoulder and ask questions.

"It's almost five," Blanc announced when it was almost five o' clock. Neptune glanced up at the clock too. "You wanna take a break and go get something to eat?"

Neptune agreed. They were both hungry.

⁂

"Hnnn... Aahhh." Neptune groaned as she stretched her arms so far over and behind her head that for a second, Blanc thought she would fall over. And she would have if not for her deft sense of balance. As is, she simply stumbled back two steps.

The school building behind them, they marched down the road to the bridge that connected the academic and urban halves of the island. Neither of them bothered looking back, because the city before them was rapturous. Some of the tall metal buildings were so polished that the sun glanced off them. The noise of traffic—small cycling vehicle engines, mainly—reached them all the way from here.

"Sorry about earlier." Neptune looked over at her. Her face was bright and open. "I kind of felt like I couldn't breathe for a while. This whole school thing with your entire day happening _inside_ rather than _outside_ just isn't for me. Like, I can't help but feel like a shut-in. A real hikikomori! I really needed some air."

"Don't you do that as a CPU anyways? I recall hearing somewhere that you spend the entire day playing video games and eating snacks."

"Hey, Blanc, don't say that..." But Neptune winced, meaning Blanc was not mistaken. "Anyway, I'm actually super excited to go to the city with you today. Being at school all week makes you appreciate it more, huh? Makes me wonder how I ever get bored of Planeptune occasionally."

Blanc watched her swing her arms in circles and roll her shoulders and breathe deeply as if this were her last chance to enjoy the bracing outside air.

"You think so?" she said agreeably. Neptune nodded. They were enveloped in scent of grass, freshly and routinely cut right before the weekend. "It is kinda nice, yeah. Gamicademi Island has a nice city in general."

"I'll miss it when we go back." Neptune touched her ears to the tops of her shoulders. She massaged her neck energetically. Blanc snapped her eyes forward.

"Well, let's enjoy it while we can. But remember, the whole purpose of having a homestay was to understand more about regular people's lives, so we can empathize with them more. They'll be expecting more out of us when we come back."

"Yeah, that's right."

"That means you'll have to actually start doing more things, as Planeptune's leader."

"Yeah... That's right..."

They reached the bridge. Clean, straight, gleaming steel spanned the river which split the island in two. It was the de facto boundary between the world of education and civilization, but it would only take them ten seconds to traverse. Neptune jogged over to the crossbeam guard rail and peered over the edge. Ten meters below, clear water sluiced across rocks.

Upon entering the city zone, a busy tenor of people and technology surrounded them. About the place, there was a constant whirr from the stream of cycles in the street, the glowing orb lamps on the sides of the roads, and the electronic signs. The city blueprint had clearly embraced modern transport, with wide sidewalks for pedestrians railed off from an even wider cyclist lane, where two or three streamlined cycles could drive comfortably side by side. Forty feet overhead, the city's most prominent feature, a light rail, snaked from one end of the city to the other, supported by arches of silvery metal with blue tones.

The wind, when it decided to blow through the streets, was slight. Blanc shivered a bit, as if she had just walked under a waterfall and emerged into this stunningly busy place.

After some discussion, they agreed to stop for takeout. It had started out as a joke, but Blanc responded to the idea so favorably that Neptune started to feel a craving herself.

"For starters: noodles, veggie stir-fry, and ginger soy beef. Those are musts."

"Yesss. Oh, oh, let's get that sweet one too, with the shrimp and walnuts."

"Oh, sure. So, we have salty, savory, sweet, and... vegetable. I want something tangy too. Something with pineapple?"

"That's fine. Speaking of tangy, they don't make anything tangerine flavored, huh? That'd be a hit with you, at least."

One of the popular places for takeout was fortunately, at this hour, in a pleasant limbo between not too busy and quiet as ghosts. They waited in a short line, ordered, and walked out with their orders boxed and bagged. Fast food at its finest.

A snap and rustle came from beside her as they walked back toward the academy. "The fortune you seek," Neptune read, "is in another cookie." She held a tiny slip of paper between her fingers. In her other hand were the broken clamshells of a cookie once shaped like a lily pad.

"You're already eating yours?"

Half of the cookie vanished between Neptune's lips. "Mm hm. Isn't the point of them to have something to eat them on the way home?"

"Then why do you still get them when your food is delivered?"

"Huh. You know... I don't know." Neptune paused, chewing. "Maybe it's just so the people who get their food delivered don't feel left out."

"Fair enough." Blanc shrugged, and they left it at that.

They took the same path back to the school and arrived without incident. Other groups of students en route to the city or milling about the grounds passed them by. Their murmurs and laughs got mixed up with the dusky ambience.

Blanc put her shoulder to the heavy glass door, pushing it open for Neptune, who grinned and walked past her. The door closed, shutting out the breeze, and they took a second to pat down their hair before continuing on. It was noticeably dimmer inside.

They followed the right hallway to the end and mounted the boomerang stairwell that led up to the second floor. As Blanc turned out from underneath the shadowed staircase and emerged onto the second flight, sunlight streamed into her eyes. Wide glass windows spanned the opposite wall of the hallway from end to end, giving the sky free reign over the entire corridor. Everything to her left and right was bathed in orange.

Blanc saw Neptune walking away toward her dormitory room, but she stayed where she was for a few seconds at the top of the stairs. She squinted at the horizon, hidden behind the sunset, as if to let the colors be imprinted on her retina.

"The sun..." She exhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling of air rushing through her lips. "It's so pretty right now."

"I know, right?" Blanc jumped at the voice.

Embarrassed, Blanc pulled herself together. Neptune had stopped walking and now looked back at her with a faint smile. Her sense of hearing was better than Blanc thought.

"I don't usually get to look at too much nature and all that while I'm in Planeptune," she said. "We have a lot of buildings, and our Basilicom's balcony is, uh... It faces the wrong way."

Blanc hurried to catch up. "I've heard the students like to sneak out to watch the sunset on the other side of the island," she said. "You ever see people hanging around the gates around this time during the week, like they're waiting for someone?"

Neptune nodded and said she had. "I was talking to this kid the other day, and he said he was going to do that with a friend of his." The last words, she spoke with a lilt as if to insinuate something more than friendship.

Blanc smiled "That's good. It sounds mushy and overly romantic. I'd probably be into that."

"I totally knew you'd be."

They shared a laugh and walked the rest of the way in silence.


	16. It's a Wrap

At the sight of the empty lane, Neptune broke away from Blanc and ran ahead, shouting some joy-filled proclamation and cherishing the vacancy of the city streets that were normally so crowded. For once, the complete absence of sound (as opposed to the steady din of chatter and motor engines) that crowded Blanc's ear.

Neptune seemed awash with energy. Blanc tried to call out to her, gave up, and with a relenting smile began to sprint after Neptune as fast as she could. Her hand flew up to keep her hat pinned to her head; the other tried to button her blazer, but she gave up after fumbling unsuccessfully for a few seconds. She ran, the lappets of her top billowing out behind her like an ersatz cape.

Such silence was rare in the city, but they were on the fringes. A few more minutes of walking, and the steel-white buildings would be behind them. Then they would be at the outermost edges of the island, where the only place left to go was out into the water.

Blanc heard a rumble far behind her. It grew in loudness, and within a few seconds a trio of cycles streaked past them on the road. One rider's hair flared out from beneath her helmet, like a plume of Atlantic-blue ribbons attached to the end of a kite. Another person, riding passenger, had their head resting on the driver's shoulder. In an instant, they were a single figure in the distance alongside the two other cyclists. Blanc slowed to a stop and stooped, panting for breath.

Neptune had stopped next to a dormant lamp post underneath the light rail. The run left her with a flushed face and messy hair, but she smoothed it coolly and smiled at Blanc, who dropped her eyes and tried to get her heart rate to stabilize.

"Are you ready?" Blanc coughed and straightened up. Neptune was toward the street, to a narrow gap between the buildings on the other side. Her eyes scanned the road and crossed Blanc's gaze for a moment. She smiled again, indefatigable. "Right through there! I've got a hunch. Let's go!"

There was no sidewalk on the other side of the street. All that lay between them and the alley was fifteen meters of asphalt thoroughfare.

Moreover, the meter-wide gap in the city's architecture seemed like an accident more than a convenient shortcut. Through it, Blanc could only see empty space. It was like looking at the sky through a window; sure enough, scattered light stared red right back at her.

"Sure. Okay." Blanc nodded, psyching herself up. She did not admit she would have liked to rest for another minute, for Neptune's excitement was compelling, was irresistable.

The light rail shuddered. Blanc heard something large approaching from above and looked up. For a split second, the rounded nose of a train loomed overhead. The sound was thundering, louder than any other noise in the city—then it flew past, the rest of the train following suit. A flickering shadow fell upon the road, punctuated by boxes of sunlight shining through compartment windows.

Neptune grabbed her by the cuff of her sleeve and stepped onto the street, Blanc close behind her. Blanc glanced from side to side as if expecting a motorcycle to appear at any second. They walked quickly at first; but halfway across, Neptune seemed to grow restless, impatient, and took longer and longer strides until Blanc had to run to keep up.

By the time they reached the alleyway, they were running. The tram glided past, looping around in the direction of the closest platform which the girls had passed five minutes ago. The noise gradually subsided, but an echo of it lingered in their ears.

Blanc stumbled through the tunnel after Neptune, unsure as to why they were still running. But she did not think to ask, with the adrenaline still in her bloodstream.

In the dim of the alley, she could hardly tell where her feet were. Her head was spinning with lights and sounds, the whirling shadows and rapid footsteps. And despite her best efforts, she tripped over herself and yelped.

"Wait!" she yelled over fading rumbling. Her hand instinctively flew out to catch the wall, but instead she found Neptune's hand, which helped her regain her footing. Neptune finally slowed down, and she glanced over her shoulder before continuing to lead them through the narrow space, a little slower than before.

Blanc tried to keep up. To both sides of her, buildings rose two or three stories upward. Running at the base of them made her feel tiny, like a cat chasing a mouse down the exact same path.

The back of Neptune's head was a deep shadow gray. But tinges of color started to return to their surroundings. She could see a bit of purple again.

There was no sidewalk on the other side of the alleyway, either. Neptune carried them through the opening without breaking pace. Daylight sudden reappeared, and Blanc flinched, but she forced her eyes wide. It shined in their faces like a beam from a worn-out flashlight. Color flooded back into the world—grass green, dirt umber, and the thousandfold shades of orange and ochre present at sunset.

Their shortcut had deposited them on the crest of a hill partially enclosed with wire fencing. Sparse patches of grass were strewn throughout the dirt underfoot. But it grew in swathes on the slope leading away from the hill. A narrow line of grassless dirt snaked away where the fencing had been left open.

They followed the trail down, going even farther from the city. The sound of the train, still faint up until that point, eventually went away completely.

"Hey, check that out!" Neptune exclaimed as they descended. Blanc looked up—she had been watching her step, afraid of losing traction in the loose dirt.

Stretched out before them was a huge body of water that extended all the way to the horizon, no matter which way she looked.

"That's cooler than I thought it'd be," Neptune said.

"Wow." Blanc was too taken to do anything but agree. "That's beautiful."

Their path ended at a wide, beachy strip of land right next to the sea. Walls of dirt cradled the bay like short cliffs, turning the area into a secluded cove. Some bleached branches jutted out of the sand. Blanc even saw, to her surprise, some pint-sized purple crabs with tribal shell markings roaming about and rooting in the sand with unevenly sized claws.

"Hey Blanc, let's find somewhere to sit." Neptune turned around. In her face was the gleam of a child's after discovering a new playground. Blanc noticed that she did not let go of her hand, even though there was no real need to hold onto each other anymore.

"Sure," she said, blushing. "How about over there?"

The nearby crabs fled and hid themselves in the sand at their approach. Neptune plopped herself onto the ground right where Blanc had pointed, finally taking her hand back to put it on the ground behind her. Blanc smoothed her skirt before sitting down next to her.

Neither of them said anything at all for a while, discounting a satisfied sigh from Neptune as she stretched her limbs. The sea took over for them. Light glanced off the surface of the water, sparkled and diffused, unable to penetrate its depths. The waves were gentle. So gentle in fact that they flowed over the loose sand and gravel at the waterline with little effect.

Even though the sun shined directly on them, it was cool, and because the walls of the inlet protected them from strong winds, Blanc was not cold.

Part of her wanted to ask Neptune when they were going back. They had come all this way on a whim—because Neptune had suggested it, and Blanc had agreed—but it was so nice here, and she was in no hurry to return to the impersonal streets and familiar school grounds. So she sat back and enjoyed the view.

Neptune's hair had been a little messy as they had made their way down to the coast, but it somehow restored itself to its usual state. Her profile made her seem much calmer than she was known to be.

Listening to the water, Blanc felt tempted to close her eyes for a moment. The water and the sand disappeared, but the scene lingered in her mind. The breeze continued to blow across her body. Even the grass, which she had not noticed beforehand, she could still hear rustling.

"Isn't this the perfect way to end the story?"

Blanc opened her eyes and looked to her left. Neptune gave her a stupid, knowing grin.

"It feels exactly the way I described it," Blanc commented. "Mushy and romantic. But this place is nice. How'd you know how to get here?"

"Well, you hear things in the hallways... But I guessed a few times along the way."

"Impressive. Honestly, I'm surprised we made it." Blanc wondered where they would have ended up had Neptune guessed any other way. Probably not at this beautiful spot.

"Me too. It was a bumpy road, huh?" Neptune tilted her head and let her ear rest on her shoulder. Something in her voice told Blanc that she was not just talking about the road they took to get here.

"Being so close to the water reminds me of Lowee for some reason," she blurted out. "Even though there's no water in Lowee. It's an odd feeling.

Blanc thought she might have spoken out of turn. However, Neptune was quick to agree. "I know what you mean. I keep thinking about Planeptune, but it isn't like we're leaving tomorrow." She laughed then leaned back and laid down on the sand. Arms crossed, she rested her head. "I guess it's because I took a boat here."

"You didn't fly?" Blanc had flown, as had Noire and Vert.

"Nah. I was tired that day, so Histy put me on a ship because she didn't trust me to pass out mid-flight. Not like that would ever happen to me, by the way," Neptune added with a hint of pride.

"Histoire sure does a lot for you. And all of us, actually."

"Small people work hard," Neptune said, giving her a smug look. Blanc rolled her eyes and scoffed, but her face grew warmer. She said nothing more, so they went back to enjoying the peaceful vista.

Neptune closed her eyes and laid so still that Blanc figured she had drifted off to sleep. Lifting her hat, she fixed her hair before taking it off altogether and putting it in her lap. "I really like sitting out here and watching the water though," she ventured. Neptune did not respond.

Some of the clouds started to disappear from view as the sun touched the horizon. The day was not about to end, but it would probably only be an hour at most until the sun set completely.

Left alone to herself, Blanc focused on her breathing. Relaxation was easy in such a conducive environment; she would have had no trouble falling asleep if she had been tired. But she kept herself awake.

She thought about the Film Club. How fun all of it was, and how their silly scripts and filming had come to be more than just some half-baked diversion. There had been some mishaps and misunderstandings along the way (it was so much easier to be optimistic about it now that the big problems had been resolved). But the way things looked now, it seemed as if things were going to work out just fine.

"I wonder what'll happen to the Film Club," she murmured aloud. The thought had just popped into her mind. "When we leave, is it going to disappear?"

She hoped it would not. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more conflicted she felt. On one hand, she had enough faith in the club's members that she knew they would be able to make do without Neptune, Noire, Vert, and herself. But considering that she herself was the one who essentially directed the club's activities, her departure would be of no little effect. And in a year, Nepgear, Uni, Rom, and Ram would leave too.

Blanc had no idea how long Famitsu and Dengekiko, Plutia and Peashy, Uzume, and Tamsoft would be around either. But there was no way they would be around 'till the end of time.

"Some people are busy, and some people are bound to say they are," she continued, not expecting a response. She was just monologuing. "It's kind of unrealistic to think that it'll live on just because a few of us enjoyed it."

Her words floated down to the shoreline. They were washed away by the water, like curled feathers on the surface of a pond.

Neptune shifted and sat up. Blanc looked over and met her eyes, then they both looked out over the water.

"Don't think about it too much," Neptune told her after a moment. She put her hands behind her knees and leaned back again, until her arms were straight and she could not lean back anymore. "I know everything's pointing at that ending, but when things are like that, you just have to be a little unrealistic too. If you go around thinking too hard about it all the time, you're probably just going to end up thinking a lot of negative stuff.

"But maybe that's just the way I do my thing," Neptune finished and chuckled. "I'm pretty unique, as you know."

"I know. And it seems like it's working," Blanc said. She fixed her eyes on the side of Neptune's face. "I love that you can be so happy and positive all the time."

"I try my best, even if it means getting glared at by a red-eyed white dragon sometimes."

Blanc squinted, the effect of which brought Neptune and herself to laughter. Maybe it was the lightheaded giddiness of that moment that compelled Blanc to lean over and nestle her head next to Neptune's.

If the action surprised Neptune, she got over it quickly and resituated herself so they were both comfortably. Empowered, Blanc leaned in and kissed her on the side of the cheek.

She stayed there for a moment before pulling back. It had crossed her mind that, maybe this was a bad idea, and she backed away.

"Sorry, That wasn't—" She tried to apologize, but the touch of Neptune's lips to her own cheek interrupted her.

 _At least she's not mad,_ she thought. All her worries suddenly seemed silly.

A blissful time went by, in which they whispered to each other and punctuated their dialogue with laughs and playing. Never before had someone else's face felt so readable, Blanc thought as she watched Neptune try to hold down a laugh, her cheeks pink.

It had gotten a little darker since they had arrived. An hour could not have passed yet, Blanc thought. (In truth, they had been sitting on the beach for fifty-seven minutes.) Neptune's purple hair had again died down to a muted shade of its original color, bright only to her eyes.

"Hey Blanc," Neptune murmured from her shoulder. "Why don't we stay here until morning?"

"What?" Blanc thought Neptune was joking, but she soon realized the suggestion was serious. "Why would you want to sleep outside, though?"

"Because we'll never get another chance like this again, you know," Neptune said, her voice for once diplomatic. A bit of her more persuasive, more mature side slipped out. "A chance to spend the night out here on the beach, in the cold, under the moonlight, with each other..."

Neptune smiled, coy, and nudged her in the ribs gently before pulling their waists together. "It might be fun, since we're here and all. Should I say something else to convince you?"

Blanc, too imaginative for her own good, stammered out "No need to go into detail," and then coughed to cover up her embarrassment. "And I mean, well, it is kind of late already. Nobody will notice if we don't go back, but... You didn't bring any blankets, did you?"

"Uh. Nope."

"Geh. Then, oh well." She sighed but did not object.

Without disturbing Neptune's arm around her waist, Blanc touched her fingers to her own chest and then held out her other hand, palm facing up. A bit of her energy in the shape of a glassy orange crystal formed in her hand. Its surface was cloudy like frosted glass, but the electric-blue filament at the center was clearly visible.

"We'll make do, I guess," she whispered, placing the crystal in the sand between their legs. It glowed warmly like candlelight, fighting off the dusky air, and dimmed momentarily just as a genuine flame would.

"Yup. We will."


	17. Just Another Post-Credits Scene

Neptune kicked open the door to the Film Club's club room, shouting like a madwoman only without the double-bladed handaxe and bottle of fermented sugar.

"Ya-haaaargh! That's a Nat' 20 for door kicking, baby! This ol' protagonist is back just in time for the obligatory post-credits narration!"

Blanc, who strode into the room after Neptune, coughed demurely into her fist. "I think you mean, 'ga-thunk.'"

"Don't you there go dare Bla... Oops. I meant to say, don't you dare go there! I may be a door-kickin', reference-makin', combo-makin', panty-shottin', combo-breakin' gal, but I'm not a low-down quote-stealin'—"

"Hey, I hate to interrupt Neptune, but are you done? Let's get on with the bonus scene."

"Oh, yeah! Sorry Tamsoft. C'mon Blanc, you're standing next to me. Let's shoot this thing!"

"Okay, sure."

* * *

 **Hi!**

Thank you for reading Just Another Love Story. After all, I still believe it is just that: a love story, one born of silly ideas from the depths of my mind, tiny details picked out from my ken, and familiar characters whom I'm sure everybody reading this right now recognizes and, to some degree, loves. So, you can say it's a love story written out of a love for silly things and characters that have caused a community to form around them.

This love story (including _Cheater's Cut_ , which is not a real chapter but a post–upload hiatus summary) clocks in at 51,545 words (that number will be slightly raised after this "chapter" is uploaded), making this my second longest story on the site. The longest has almost twice that many, though being the first story published on this account four years ago, those words can't hold a candle stub to the words in this one. Quality over quantity; I've graduated from endless streams of quirky dialogue—and using neologisms like "bluenette"—to attempting to write stories that are more like the kinds you would find in books. 'Twill be an endless battle, so please wish me luck.

 **A few more specific thank yous:**

Everyone who followed or marked as a favorite this story or myself. Thanks for all those intermittent little ego boosts!

Everyone who left a review on this story. Thanks for all the feedback and mini conversations!

(And to you guest reviewers: Whether you have something nice to say or something else, I never refuse to respond to a review. If you make an account and I get your review, we can actually chat!)

RedlerRed7. In the chance that you ever read these words: I want to thank you for all the conversations we've had, the artwork you've made for me (imagine, artwork for _me_! it makes me proud even to this day). When I think of this site, you're one of the first people I think of. Thanks for the pleasant memories!

Eiskralle1. Thanks for being the first person to cheer me on at the advent of this story, and for being a TOP NEP with six count-'em six reviews.

 **Oh, and thanks for simply reading this story (and this note).**

"Time is one of the most profound factors that affect our lives," I wrote almost four years ago for the Lucky Star: Left Behind, which is probably the story I am most proud of having written. Time continues to move for me as well, and so I think what follows is going to be an **important announcement in regard to my presence here on the site**. Get ready.

 **What to expect going forward:**

1\. The real Hyper Nep Drifter.

It's coming: Hyperdimension Neptunia meets Hyper Light Drifter, a crossover that literally no one should have expected. Consider the weird one-chapter story I already published to have died in alpha—a bigger, better version is in the works, but it may be a while.

2\. A Cyberdimension one-shot.

I had a wacky idea based on a single line of dialogue in the Cyberdimension spinoff. I can remember it even though I never wrote it down!

3\. The end of my writing about Hyperdimension Neptunia.

For all its wackiness and generally weak gameplay, I like HDN. Like all games of at least some merit do, it created a community around itself. But I don't intend on hanging onto it forever.

4\. The end of my career (so to speak) on FanFiction dot net.

Hey! I plan to move over to Archive of Our Own (AO3 for short) under the same author tag Symantra. In the immediate future, I plan to write stories about Bang Dream. I'll still have my account on this site, so I can still reply to reviews, read stories, and message people. I may even cross post if I figure out whether that's allowed or not.

5\. The beginning of my college days.

Yes. I'm a senior in high school, and so far I have been accepted into one of the four colleges I applied to (my fourth place choice, funnily enough). My older stories here on the site have already become part of Dark History, but there are a lot of things I'll be proud of moving forward. I plan to major in creative writing, and I want a job involved with writing and publishing.

* * *

My passion for reading started with library books.

My passion for storytelling started with the library too, but also video games and anime.

My passion for characters started with fanfiction.

My passion for writing also started with fanfiction.

So I believe that I'll continue writing fanfiction alongside juggling life and writing things that belong completely to me. I believe that will be the case, even if one day I end up writing and publishing (a) real book(s), but right now—who can say?

* * *

 _ **Fin.**_

* * *

 _Become friends with me on Discord: Symantra#7048._

 _I can always afford to meet more people. I hope we can get along!_


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